ABANDONED

MY FATHER WAS IN THE WAR AND NEVER CAME BACK THE SAME WAY HE LEFT. HIS BRIGHT PEARLY SMILE I USED TO LOVE DEARLY WAS NOW MORE GUMS THAN TEETH. HIS YOUTHFUL, CAREFREE CHARM WAS NOWHERE IN SIGHT AND WAS INSTEAD REPLACED WITH HIS RANDOM OUTBURSTS LIKE THAT OF A CAT FORCED INTO HAVING A BATH. 

I REMEMBER HIS BOLD PROCLAMATION OF BEING ABLE TO VENTURE OUT TO HELL AND BACK IF IT MEANT HE COULD SERVE HIS MOTHERLAND. THE TRIP WASN’T WORTH IT. I DON’T THINK HE REALIZED THAT ‘HELL’ WAS NOT SOMEPLACE THAT ANYONE COULD JUST CASUALLY STRUT TO AND FRO. OTHERWISE MORTAL ENEMIES WOULDN’T CURSE EACH OTHER WITH THE PLACE. HE LEARNT HIS LESSON THOUGH. ALBEIT A TAD BIT TOO LATE. HE ENTERED THE MOUTH OF THE BEAST CALLED THE MILITARY FOR THE SAKE OF HONOUR AND THAT BEAST CHEWED HIM UP AND SPAT HIM OUT AFTER DRAINING ALL THE GOOD HE HAD TO OFFER. HE WAS NOW A MERE HUSK OF WHO HE ONCE WAS AND A REMINDER OF A BROKEN PROMISE OF WHAT HE SWORE NOT TO BE - A VIOLENT, ALCOHOLIC WHO COULDN’T TELL HIS OWN CHILD FROM THE ENEMY SOLDIER- VERY MUCH LIKE HIS OWN FATHER.

MY MOTHER’S SHOP HAD GONE BANKRUPT FROM HOW MUCH SHE’D HAD TO CLEAN UP AFTER MY FATHER’S MESS. ALL HER EMPLOYEES THAT SHE’D SPENT A LONG TIME WITH LEFT WITHOUT LOOKING BACK. HONESTLY, I CAN’T SAY I BLAME ’EM. HER BUSINESS PARTNERS AND SUPPORTERS ALL LEFT WITHOUT TRYING TO REPAY ALL THE FAVOURS AND GOOD SHE’D DONE FOR THEM IN THE PAST, AND NOW SHE’S ALL ALONE..., WITH A DUSTY AND EMPTY SHOP. A SHOP SHE LATER SOLD.

SHE BOUGHT ME A JAR OF CANDY, QUITE A LARGE ONE TOO. EACH CANDY WAS ROUND AND BLUE LIKE PRETTY MARBLES. MY MOTHER GAVE THAT TO ME WITH A SMILE AS SHE LIED TO MY FACE THAT SHE HAS SOMEWHERE IMPORTANT TO BE. SHE PROMISED TO BE BACK BEFORE THE JAR RAN OUT OF SWEETS.

I HAD ONE SWEET EVERY DAY, NO MORE. I HOPED SHE’D BE BACK. I REALLY DID. AS THE AMOUNT OF BLUE IN THE JAR STARTED TO DWINDLE I REDUCED THE AMOUNT OF CANDY I ATE TO ONE PER THREE DAYS. I ATE ONE EVERY THREE DAYS BUT SOON ENOUGH THERE WAS ONLY ONE LEFT. I KNEW. I KNEW I’D BEEN ABANDONED BY MY MOTHER. I WAS SEVEN, NOT STUPID. I JUST WANTED TO KEEP HOPING BUT EVEN THE HOPE SOON BECAME A BURDEN THAT WAS TOO MUCH FOR LITTLE ME TO BEAR AND I TOSSED THE LAST MAGIC ORB INTO MY STARVED MOUTH, PRAYING AND HOPING ONE FINAL TIME FOR A MIRACLE TO OCCUR. NOTHING HAPPENED. AS THE LAST TRACES OF SWEETNESS FADED FROM THE WETNESS OF MY TONGUE, I TOO, ABANDONED HOPE.

I BRUSHED MY ALREADY WORN-OUT DRESS AFTER GETTING OFF THE FLOOR AND GOT MYSELF INTO THE WOODS TO PICK SOME BERRIES TO SELL FOR THE DAY. I GOT HOME TO A NOT-VERY SOBER FATHER. NO SURPRISE THERE. HE CHIDED ME FOR BEING TOO INTELLIGENT FOR MY OWN GOOD, COMPLAINED AND RANTED ABOUT BEING UNABLE TO FIND HIS SEVEN-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER’S MONEY STASH, AND RAMBLED ON ABOUT SOME OTHER IRRELEVANT THINGS IN SLURRED SPEECH. PATHETIC. I’D ALWAYS THOUGHT HE HAD TOO MUCH TO SAY FOR SOMEONE SO STUPID.

ON MY EIGHTH BIRTHDAY, MY FATHER CRIED AND GAVE ME A HEARTFELT APOLOGY ABOUT EVERYTHING AND PROMISED TO BE BETTER. LETTING HOPE CREEP BACK INTO ME WAS MY BIGGEST BLUNDER. I WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING TO A SMILING CORPSE. THE DOCTOR SAID IT WAS HIS KIDNEY. TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING IS BAD, AND TOO MUCH OF A BAD THING IS EVEN WORSE. I FIND THE THOUGHT THAT HE MIGHT HAVE FOUND PEACE QUITE DISTASTEFUL. I NEVER THOUGHT I’D CRY SO MUCH FOR SOMEONE WHO CAUSED ME SO MUCH PAIN. GUESS IT’S NEVER A GOOD FEELING TO BE ABANDONED. TWICE IN TWO YEARS. BY BOTH PARENTS, NO LESS.

THE END