Our Beginning

Our Stories// Alec

Since no one else is here right now and I'm sitting all in my lonesome, I guess I should tell my story first.

***

Once upon a time in a magical fairy palace far, far away.

Haha, no, nothing in my life happens like that.

*sigh* I was born March, 6 on a sunny day full of idiocracy, obviously.

But y'know, thats lame let's skip the boring parts.

*dramatic music*

My life ended when I turned nine. It was a bright day, bursting with possibility. Me and my sister were playing badminton in the back yard with our new net.

And that is when our parents ruined our fun and told us about the divorce. Not that my nine year old self knew what that was...

A week later we moved into or mother's house. She had a boyfriend through the entire divorce and even a bit before that. Mom I love you, but that was messed up.

Anyway, blah blah blah, we meet the guy he moves in we buy a house that isn't a rundown shack behind a gas station...

Then I made a wrong move.

We weren't allowed to go into the living room while they were watching television, by we I mean me, myself, and I. Both my sister and step sister were. I don't get life.

Anywho, I walked out because I heard voices. Everyone was having a good time, not even bothering to listen to the dumb click flick my mom loves. I forget the name... (Greys Anatomy?)

I stood at the edge of the hallway, watching for a moment, being an invisable child. Finally I spoke up, "I thought we weren't allowed to be out here?"

My step dad was furious that I even consider talking to him. He shouted something I can't recall and threw his full ashtray at me. A dramatic expireance considering I was about ten at the time.

I ran as I heard someone throw a chair.

-a few minutes later-

"It's okay," Mother soothed. I knew it wasn't.

I had taken refuge in me and my sister's closet. My mom had found me there quickly and I don't know what my step sister and sister were doing.

Later I went out there again with the promise we were leaving. There was a broken chair off the the side, smashed ashtray debris littering the floor.

Everyone was in the hallway, not saying a word, when suddenly my step dad burst out of the room with a gun.

I forget most of what happened after that.

***

"We want to get married." He finished. My stepfather was bipolar, but tonight he had actually taken his pills and only drank about fifteen beers. I didn't want them to get married, but I was afraid to say no.

I nodded and left. They married just a month later, my mother wanting to get rid of the thought of my father.

***

After confronting DFS I thought he would change, I thought he would take his pills... but no such luck.

He had an outburst and everything went to hell. I don't remember half of it if I'm honest... I was hiding and screaming. Which is probably why I am such good at screamo, thank you step father, you did something right.

But the whole thing about DFS is, they DON'T CHANGE ANYTHING EVER. They made my life a living hell.

Thanks.

He hides guns around the house... he is verbally and physically abusive... he put a gun, a loaded gun, to my freaking dog's head.

My freaking dog. Like what?

It's a dog for crying out loud.

Just over last summer he picked a fight with my father in front of me and my sister.

I remember this in deadly detail.

July 7th, 2015, the day I died again.

My step father went out for more beer and a few more cigar packages. He only drinks about twenty a day and smokes about three packs... but whatever.

My dad pulled up to the end if our driveway a minute after my step dad left. My father gave me a book I had ordered online and we hugged and told each other hi and what's been going on.

Its weird because I'm not even allowed to read at my mom's house.

Pfft, 'cause I'm going to follow that rule.

I just want to state that I am listening to a cover of a pop song performed by PTV and it rules suck it pop music, they do it better than you.

My dad got into his car, a topless, roof-less Jeep Wrangler.

And then my step dad pulled up. And hey, would ya look at that... he was being a butt. (Jenna dislikes cuss words or I'd have cussed so bad right there)

He stopped beside me and flipped off my dad. Which made my stomach twist. Oh God no... I thought.

The last thing going through my head, Dad, leave right now.

He waved.

My step dad got out and began yelling at my dad, mostly words Jenna wouldn't apperciate me putting on here so...

They yelled, (we live right in front of Dollar General so of course some people looked sideways a us, but the idiots didn't call the cops) back and forth at each other.

"STOP!" I yelled twice in attempt to make them at least look at me. Niether did.

My mom raced up to me and my sister and began trying to step between the two. It wasn't stupid at all. She just kept threatening to call my step dad's mom.

Woah Mom, no need to make the guy have a heart attack. Some people just don't get it.

Eventually my dad drove away, my step dad throwing large rocks at him.

I stood still, tears running down my face.

"Get in the ******* " your welcome Jenna, "car!" My mom yelled.

And I did, as did my sister.

We drove exceedingly slowly to the house. My thoughts, seriously this is the speed you choose for this?

Then my step dad was yelling at my mom for the keys, banging on the windows, trying to get us out of the car.

My mom got out to grab her purse.

My step father grabbed her and put her into a choke hold. Imagine this in slow motion, it seems more dramatic...

She struggled under his grasp, dropping her keys, gasping for air.

She did ths most logical thing.

She bit his arm.

He got very mad about that.

There's more but I gotta go! Bye peeps.