I don't mean to be a hard-a**, but I've just had enough. My new "step-mommy-to-be" was driving me crazy. This isn't going to be one of those spin-offs off of Cinderella, believe me she had it easy, and you'll think so too after you hear this story. So usually this is how it goes: These two people get married and they're madly in love and pop comes the baby, and then they all live a happy life together with no worries, Hakuna Matata. Not this time. After the whole baby thing, my parents skipped the happy life and went straight to living in hell. My parents were always yelling and fighting and throwing things at each other. I was so young when I witnessed these things. I think I was about 4 years old the day I saw my father screaming at my mother to GET OUT! He walked into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife we owned and aimed it at my mom. At the time I thought they were playing a game, I didn't know knives were deadly, but they sure looked awfully pointy. But their game was starting to bore me so I turned away to play with my toys, then the next thing I know I hear a thump, like something big just fell on the floor, so I turn my body to look and lay my hand on the floor where I'm sitting to balance myself, and my hand splatters into a tiny pool of dark, thick blood. I hear something metal fall to the floor and see the knife my dad was holding slide towards my hand at increasing speed. I hear my mom screaming and my dad crying, saying "sorry! I'm so sorry!" The knife hits my hand and I get a big, sharp pain on the side of my hand and I notice more of that icky red stuff oozing out of a long gash on my hand. So, naturally, I start bawling but my parents couldn't hear me over their own cries and screams. I think I had been crying for about 15 minutes before I started getting tired, so very tired. I faint. I wake up later in the day, I have no idea how long I had been out for, but I woke up to the ceiling of my room. I was in my little bed. I looked at the hand that had been cut with the knife and it was wrapped firmly in white bandages, but there was still blood seeping through, and it still stung. The door opens and my mom walks in and she looks fine, exactly the way she was before all of this chaos happened. Except for the 6 inch gash wrapped around the side of her neck covered in bandages just like mine. Hers was bloody too. She came in smiling, like nothing was wrong, and walked over to my bed and leaned over it started to unwrap my tight bandages. I started to whine and cry but she calmed me down with my favorite lullaby, My favorite too::
Worry not little one, it will be okay soon
If it's not, we'll rearrange your entire room.
And do you know why, I'd do this for you?
Because, little one, you're my favorite too.
Along with the apples, cherries, almonds and cheese,
kittens and puppies, can I have all of them please?
You need to remember, when you're feeling blue,
that amongst all these things, you're my favorite too.
(To be continued)