Tatted

NIGHTMARES COME TRUE

"I'm not a whole person. I don't think I ever will be. Parts of me died in the house I grew up in and I visit them in my dreams."

*****

"Mom? Dad?"

~~~~~

Have you ever dreamed of something so horrid that you pray with all your might it will never happen to you? That is exactly what I felt like when my mom and dad showed up at my front door, thinking that I would welcome and accept them with a smile.

Not after all they have done to me. I will never accept them after all the trauma they caused me. 

They appear so changed, though. They look much younger than they are. The way they've kept their hands on each other since I sat them in the living room tells me a lot about their relationship. And their eyes look so much brighter, so lively.

They don't look like my parents. They don't look like the pretty much dead parents that raised me. The ones that had pale skin, black under eyes, and looked underweight. These aren't my parents.

"How are you, honey?" My mom started.

I couldn't even look at her. She disgusted me. How could she burst into my house unannounced and act like everything's okay. My life was already going so terrible and now I have another reason to unalive myself.

I didn't respond. Why would I?

She wasn't there for me while my dad was taking advantage of us, abusing us. She was hurt and struggling, I knew that, but she only thought about herself and not once did she think to save me or my sister. We were young and helpless.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted. I didn't mean to sound so rude but I was so full of anger that I did by accident.

She looked thrown aback at my tone. How dare she be shocked? I should be the only one that's shocked.

Micheal is still upstairs and angry.  I hoped that he realized who was here and didn't come downstairs yelling at me.

"I wanted to visit you." She gave me a look and I held back the urge to roll my eyes.

I already felt like my 13 year old self. Always being angry and annoyed at them. Always having to deal with my parents outbursts and tantrums.

I didn't want to relive that experience but now that they're here, In front of me, I'm forced to.

They look changed, of course, but I realized that they are still their shitty selves on the inside. They're just good at hiding it now.

I know I have to be careful around them or I'll reveal their old selves. I wouldn't want to do that now that I have Micheal hurting me as well.

I should leave. I should pack my bags and go- My head keeps repeating to me. But where will I go? I have no money of my own, no where to stay. My life is only getting worse and worse just because of a stupid decision.

That is to see how one choice can effect your path in life. I unfortunately do not make the best decisions-like cheating on my fiance with his best friend. What a stupid decision.

"I don't see why you would do that after so many years." I stated but it sounded like I was asking.

My dad stood up and tried to grasp my arm but I tugged away. I noticed him gulp. "Sweetheart, I know we've been through some stuff but we've changed. We're here to show you that we have."

I could only look at them in repugnance. The man who tried to hurt me everyday. Who was a drunk, an addict. A man who had no care for his family is attempting to win over his daughter. I shouldn't even count as his daughter anymore. I don't want to call him my dad. I get nauseous thinking that this terrible man is my father.

"Here's the truth," my mom started, her eyes begging me to hear her out, "We saw you're getting married on Facebook. We wanted to witness the wedding."

"What? How did you see it on Facebook? Micheal had announced it without telling me?"

"Ah, yes. That's his name, Micheal." My dad commented. I glared at him. How could he be so ignorant to my shock?

"You don't understand. He didn't tell me he was posting an announcement. We don't even have the official wedding date yet."

Nothing is planned and Micheal wants us married as soon as possible. What the fuck am I meant to do?

"He's good looking, good job." Mo. added.

My mouth would drop open but I wouldn't want them to suspect anything about Micheal.

Why am I still protecting him? Or am I protecting myself from the shame?

I did not do a good job. I did exactly what my mom did. Picked a man who treated me right at first and then got tired and started hurting me. I guess the cycle does continue. The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, am I right?

I had an urge to kick them out and tell them they couldn't stay in my house. But I am not that mean. Even after all they put me through I wouldn't kick them out. Obviously, I'm still gonna treat them like shit, just like they did me.

My mom's mouth opened to say something but was stopped by the rattle of footsteps down the stairs. Irritable Micheal appeared from the staircase and I had to bite my tongue to not say anything I'd regret.

His eyes flicked from me to my parents and back again. He gave me a look that meant who are they?

"Hi, Micheal." I started, displeased, "These are my parents. They came to visit because they saw the announcement you posted."

I was completely vexed. Why would he post something like that on his own? He couldn't confirm with me, we couldn't comunicate. It's not a surprise as he sucks at communication. I guess actions are his only recourse.

My mom's grin was so wide, the widest I have ever seen her smile. But then again, I haven't seen her in quite some time.

After I had turned 13 my sister ran away with me to Florida. She was legally old enough to have a life of her own but she stayed for me. She took care of me. When she was diagnosed with cancer I was devasted. I was so young with no one to go to. I haven't seen my parents since I was 13. I'm over 20 now.

My dad didn't smile but by the way his eyes shifted I could tell he felt the same as mom. Not happy for me but happy for themselves because I had found a cruel man who also provides money for me.

My whole life was full of monsters.

"It's nice to meet you, Micheal." My mom greets.

She sticks her hand out and they shake hands. Mom looks flattered and for a second I feel like she wants a Micheal for herself.

I want to scream so loud. Seeing them treat Micheal with respect he doesn't deserve is intolerable.

I want them to see how crude he can be, how terrible he treats me. I want to yell at them that I'm in love with another man that also turns out to be my fiances best friend. I want to stomp out and slam the door just like Micheal does whenever we fight.

Why am I stopping myself? It wouldn't be much more disrespectful than how Micheal treats me.

"Hi, Micheal." My dad says amicably.

They both look so happy, so grateful that their daughter has found love. But he is not my love, a man living in California is.

Micheal shakes both their hands and sits. His hair looks oddly disheveled and his cheeks and nose are red. I wonder what he was up to upstairs. He does not look well. He looks ill.

I am not going to sit here any longer and listen to their extensive conversations with Micheal.

Without a word, I pick up my shit and leave. I can feel their gazes behind me but I know they are not going to do anything to stop me. And if they try I will not stop because I'm not going to let this situation get the best of me.

I hear my mother call my name but I do not stop and I am out the door. I forgot to grab my coat but it would be awkward to walk back in so in the chilly air and gloomy sky is where I reside.

A ride on the motorcycle won't hurt. I shove it out of the garage and put my helmet on.