Chapter 3
Tomorrow is thanksgiving and my mother has decided to bake pies for both bars my dad works at. I know you are thinking what a second I thought your dad only has one job well the thing is he decide it would be fun to screw my life up and get drunk all the time so he got a second bar job. But the funny thing is he gets paid in free alcohol so my mother and my father are always eight sheets to the wind. I am going to take a wild guess here and say you do not know what eight sheets to the wind means, well it basically means drunk, well at least to my understanding. I enjoy baking with my mother so much it makes me feel so close to her. I watched the hours go by and my dad still was not home. He came home at three in the morning, and my mom is really mad I can’t blame her I would be to oh wait I am. My dad didn’t fall asleep until like five in the morning. On the bright side my mother and I staid up until twelve in the after noon we watched reruns of project run way and I was so happy.
My dad woke up really late my mom took him to work so we would have the car so we could go to my dads work and eat thanksgiving dinner. Well that didn’t happen that way my mom took the car and got really drunk with my dad and I cried for hours. I called my grandma and she calmed me down I love my grandmother she always is there for me even though she lives in California and I live in the armpit of the United States Montana. I hope one day I can live with my grandmother but I won’t get to. My dad hates that I have a good relation ship with my mom but I can’t help it we just understand each other. Mostly because he parents were not the best either, sometimes I wonder how she made it through. But she is what keeps me going she is my inspiration. I hope I end up like her someday.
Today is black Friday and my mother and I were suppose to go together but she is way to hung-over so I am stuck at home and I have nothing to do except for sit here and be mad at my parents. I hate when the cant follow through wit ha promise it just breaks my heart I want my parents to see that the ruin me, they brake me, they hurt me. But only I can get fooled so many times and not even notice they are fooling me until it is too late. My brother and I always get stuck in there useless, meaningless, pointless lies. But somehow I think they find joy in braking our hearts, I honestly think the like it. My mother thinks I am a drama queen when I tell her that she hurt me and I wish she would not lie and would not talk a big talk but she rolls her eyes and doesn’t even try to listen anymore, she always says I am a broken record. I mean it is not that big of a deal that I do not get to go to black Friday shopping I am just upset that she got my hopes up, plus I just wanted to spend time with her that was all I wanted. But no she can not even do that for me. She can’t be the mother she needs to be, the mother I want just doesn’t exists. My mother makes me far that I will be a bad mother someday I hope that wont be true.
Its Monday morning and thanksgiving break is over, witch I am actually relived I can not stand to be in my house any more. So far English is going smoothly, witch believes or not it often doesn’t. But I am actually taking interest in this poem writing I really want to prove my self to my teacher, my brother and, and my parents. Ms. Vivid catches me before I leave.
“Hey Crystal how is your poem coming along?”
“Good I guess.”
“Well if you need any help let me know.”
“Well there is one thing”
“Yes what is it Crystal”
“How so writ about something that is really hard for you to write about.”
“You need to let go and find you safe spot and open your heart not you mind”
“Thanks Ms. Vivid”
“No problem you may not get it at first but when you do you will see it, feel it, and believe it.
I took Ms. Vivid’s words of wisdom in for consideration but it just is not clicking for me. I do not see it, feel it, or believe. I don’t think I ever will be able to write this poem. Maybe my parents are write I am not going to writer I should drop out of this poetry contest.
Everlasting Lies Page 2