![]() Tears are threatening to spill once more, but I actually have control of my emotions. "I'm ready to go." I lie, I'll never be ready to leave all of this my four new uncles, a sense of safety, and most of all, my dad. I see Vic already waiting with Dad, them talking quietly on the couch. He grins like a Cheshire cat at my actions, then messes up my hair as we walk out of the room, my bags in hand. It's like my way of giving him my blessing or something. Before he gets back up, I kiss his forehead. Before we walk out the door, he gets down to my level and kisses my cheek. Just give him some space for the time being, okay? You're not getting away from me that easily, Mel Bear." I smile at him as he helps zip my bags. I love you like you're my kid instead of Ronnie's. After a minute, he takes my face in his hands. We all do." I wrap my arms around his torso and I sob like I never have before. I need to know." He pulls me into his chest. "Why do I have to go? Does he not want me with him anymore? Please tell me, Uncle Jacky. I'll come see you later tonight, okay?" "Could you bring Uncle Ry with you too?" I beg. "Well, put the picture back and finish getting your stuff, Melody dear. That'd be cool if he did, wouldn't it be, Uncle J?" He nods. "Charlie! I drew Charlie!" I softly exclaim. ![]() The gray puppy beside me looked like it was licking my hand with a long pink tongue when a light bulb goes off in my head. I was beside him, my brown hair styled almost the same but a bit longer since I was a girl. Well, as much of a shoulder an almost-stick-person could have. Dad had black hair in front of one eye and on his "shoulders". Jacky examined the picture as intently as I did, analyzing every detail. Me and him standing outside of my then-home, holding hands with a puppy right beside me. It's the picture I drew for him that day in school. There was a folded up piece of construction paper hidden behind the photo. He gave me a sidehug, and then took the fifth picture out of the frame. It seemed so long ago, but it was still one of my best memories I've ever made in my entire life. There's the day I lost the two teeth that Dad kept with him for so long." We softly laugh at the memory of our first conversation. "Hey, he's not mad at you, no matter what you think. Well, actually, now it's just his room since I'm bunking with PTV for the time being. As I reminisce about the days before Robert and Alexia, before Rouge, before everything, tears fall onto the glass protecting the photos. The first picture is on the day I left the womb (I know, very punny), me in his arms the second on my first day of school then one of me when I lost my first tooth my first grade school picture in a Black Sabbath band shirt a developed picture from the last time I saw him when I was eight and the most recent being a remake of the previous picture taken the day he surprised me at Matty's. I pick it up, then sit on our bed to study it. I come across a rather large picture frame that holds six different five-by-seven photos. I run to our shared room in the back and start packing my things. Two months was a record for anyone to want me since I was in Reality Rehab, dad or not. I try not to let them fall, but I fail miserably. Didn't mean to be a bother." Tears well up in my eyes. No arguing with me about it because the answer will always be no." Dad suddenly snaps, his angry tone scaring me. Get your stuff and stay with Pierce The Veil for here on out. It's happened to me almost a dozen times. Usually, when I'm given to some 'family friends' for the week because 'stuff needs to get sorted out', it's a precursor to getting sent back. Please let me help, Daddy." I don't want to go. We just need to sort some things out." Dad says, pain evident in his voice. Just get your stuff and stay with the Mexicans for the rest of the week. Andy, knowing when he should stay and when he shouldn't, leaves. ![]() ![]() "What's going on?" I raise an eyebrow at the scene before me: Ryan holding Heather back while she's yelling profanities, Ronnie's hand being bandaged by Ron (then I notice the hole in the wall a few feet away), Derek on the couch with his head in his hands, and Jacky pacing the room with tears in his eyes. As we walk in the door, Heather's being held back by Ryan from doing something while everybody else's good, happy morning mood went up in smoke. It's safe to think that she's still there, but you never know." I reply in the same type of voice. "When I walked out, Heather was holding him down in the living room floor. "Status report: go." He says in a serious CSI-like tone.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |