Just A Thought

2

Sometimes I think it would be easier if I died young since when I'm young I haven't experienced many things that I would miss if I died. Because when I'll be old and I'll have to die, there would be some things that I would like to experience again, but wouldn't get the chance to.

Is this what everyone thinks?

I haven't been on a plane before. But now I am.

A few hours later I'm walking out of an airport where my dad should be waiting for me. I don't remember the last time I saw him. He was supposed to be dead.

And now I'll have to live with my dad and his family. I just found out I have a twin brother too.

I finally spot my dad who's holding a sign with my name. That's so weird. I'm surprised he even remembers it.

"Valeri?"

"Dad?"

He leans for a hug but I step away. His smile slowly fades.

"Please don't touch me," I mutter.

Who does he think he is? First he leaves and makes my mom believe he died. Because of that she started using drugs until she overdosed and died. Then the police tells me my father's alive and he has a family. And now I'm here before him and he just expects me to be okay with it? To forget all the shit?

We just awkwardly stand there for a few seconds until he clears his throat "I think we should go."

"Yeah, we should." I say and open walk past him.

"How was the flight?" He asks after a few minutes of driving in a complete silence.

"It was okay," I shortly say.

We drive for at least an hour until I catch a sight of the sea. There's sun getting set right behind it.

It looks gorgeous.

I wish I could paint it right now right here.

After a few minutes first houses appear. Not houses. Mansions.

I can't believe some people have all this money and some people need to work two jobs so we can keep ourselves alive. It's not fair.

We finally pull in the courtyard of a really big house. I have never seen such a big house as this. My jaw drops. My dad lived here all this time and I was there almost dying every single day. I can't believe this. I can't believe him.

Dad parks the car and opens the door. I follow him into the house.

A few days ago I was dying because I didn't have money. And now I'm suddenly rich.

I sigh and enter.

There's a huge closet filled with a lot of shoes and coats. My dad says I should take off my shoes. I do. He also says I should leave my luggage here. Too bad I don't have one.

So I follow him in the kitchen.

I freeze when I see food. When I say food, I mean a huge amount of food.

"Take a sit," my dad says.

I slowly move closer to the table and sit down.

"Alex should be home soon." I know he wants to start a conversation.

"Okay," I say like I don't care. I actually really don't care. I don't care about this stupid house. I don't care about my dad. I don't care about my so called brother. I don't care about anything. Because I feel nothing. When I look at this food I can't move my hand to get any. The struggle is too big. Memories run through my head. Memories of my mom. How hard she tried to make my life perfect but with years lost herself in heroin. And I even knew back then it won't end well. But I couldn't help her. I didn't know how to. And then she died. I used to tell myself I will never be like her. I will never be broken and I will try to make my life good. And I am trying. But I can't. I feel like I failed. I failed. And I told myself I wasn't going to.