These Words to Her

As with what happens each time I come to my parents' house during the holidays, my animosity towards them both died down after the first week had past. It didn't mean that I liked them any more than I did – because I most certainly didn't – but it did mean that I didn't purposely pick arguments with them just to settle my anger. I didn't spend more time downstairs with them, but because Peter still wasn't talking to me, I was spending my days rather bored in my bedroom. He was waiting for a damn apology from me, and going from the past, I knew he wouldn't be the one to give in and call me.

Val kept bringing up the idea of going on a family retreat with just the three of us, but honestly, I can live until I'm eighteen without being close to my parents because I've survived so far so obviously a little while longer won't do much difference.

So when Michelle knocked on my door to tell me that they were all going out and that I would be the only one home for a while, I waited until I heard the door shut twice before leaving my room and scouting out the downstairs to make sure that I actually was alone. When I had double-checked each room, I slipped back upstairs and went slowly into Brian and Michelle's bedroom. I bypassed everything and made a beeline for Michelle's wardrobe, flinging the doors open when I got there and stepping into it. That was then I saw the box that I was looking for.

Standing on my tiptoes, I reached for the box and slowly slid it off the shelf, making sure that I caught it close to my body so that the contents didn't fall all over the place. I then left the wardrobe and made sure the door was closed behind me before leaving their room and going back into mine. The television that was set on a chest of drawers opposite my bed was my goal, and after I made sure that my door was locked just in case someone came back without me hearing, I set the box down on the floor and pulled out one the videos that were stacked within it.

I took a deep breath before inserting it into the television, pressing the on button and sitting on the end of my bed with my legs crossed and remote clutched tightly into my hand. Never in my life had I seen these videos before, but I overheard Michelle say to one of her friends in the kitchen that she kept a box full of old home videos in her wardrobe and of course, I had to check them out because despite my dislike for them, I still wanted to see what my childhood was like from the view of the camera.

The screen came on and I found myself looking at a younger version of Brian holding what appeared to be a younger version of myself in his arms. He looked at the camera before looking down at me. "This is Nicole," he said, looking back up to the camera. "She's three weeks old and the most amazing woman brought her into this world." There was a chuckle from off-screen that I assumed to be from Michelle before Brian continued talking. "Her hands are tiny but they've already latched onto my heart and won't ever let go. This is my daughter," he murmured, looking back down at me, "and I'm never going to let her go."

Following those words, the screen went fuzzy before another clip began to play. This time, younger me looked a lot older from the previous clip as I was sat in a highchair with a younger Michelle sitting next to it, a spoon in one hand and a bowl in the other. But despite my young age, there was a smile on my face. "Mummy's trying to feed Nicole but she has other ideas," came Brian's voice from behind the camera.

This made Michelle laugh and shake her head. "If you didn't encourage her then she wouldn't be throwing her food back at me," she protested.

"Aw, but look at her, she's having so much fun." And he was right because as soon as Michelle attempted to give me another spoonful, I grabbed it off her and waved my arm around with it which made the food fly off the spoon and hit Michelle in the face.

With another laugh, she wiped it off with the back of her hand and turned to face the camera. "If she's having so much fun, why doesn't Daddy have a go?" she offered, handing the bowl over to Brian. This resulted in the camera being put down and then screen going black.

By now I was already sitting with my mouth covered, unable to keep my tears away and biting down on my palm to keep any sobs in. The next clip came on screen and this time it was outside and I was walking around without holding onto their hands which told me that I was obviously significantly older than the previous clip. "Careful, Nicole," Brian warned and the camera rested on him as he watched me walk around the small enclosed area. He looked at the camera and sighed. "I can't believe how fast she's grown."

"I know, our little girl's growing up," Michelle replied, and it seemed like such a personal and touching moment that I pressed eject on the remote and allowed the screen to go completely blank. It hurt so much to watch how my parents used to be around me because I cannot remember those memories and seeing them documented on film made it feel like a kick to the gut because what changed them? I don't understand how they could change from the parents that they appeared to be in those three clips to the parents I remember the most – the ones that were cold and hurtful and dismissive. It's almost as if my growing up caused them to resent me in some way which is why they begun telling me that they wished they had never had a child.

It wasn't just hurt I was feeling, though; I was furious as well. They never wanted to talk about my childhood with me unless it included the good memories they have, but there were so little good memories from the age of two until Hannah became my guardian that I've probably suppressed my good memories so that I don't feel bad. Whenever I ask Michelle about why both she and Brian began blaming me for everything bad that was happening, she always denies it. Whether it's because she's lying to herself or she just doesn't want to talk about it, I don't know. All I do know is that they want me to act like the perfect daughter even though they won't help me understand all these bad memories I have about living with them. About all the tears and the loneliness I felt whenever they would choose to spend time with their friends and ignore me completely.

I stood abruptly from my bed and went over to my desk, opening my drawers until I came to a stack of post-it notes. With the pen that was in the drawer, I wrote the words "Why did you stop loving me like this?" before ripping it from the stack and sticking it on the video after I'd pulled it out from the television. Then I put it on top of the rest of the videos, left my room and went back into their room. Instead of leaving the video with the post-it note in the box when I put it back on the shelf, I took it with me and went downstairs and into the kitchen. From there I grabbed a bottle of water and a sandwich before placing the video on the kitchen counter and going back upstairs.

My phonecall with Hannah lasted three hours, two of which was spent being angry at my parents while the final hour was spent in tears.