Lost Souls

May 2014

Growing up, any average teenager should have an average life. Yet, I felt like I was robbed of that normality, cheated out of the carefree experience of being a teenager. I know I shouldn't talk about it or give this person the light of day for all the horrible things he has done to me. But if my story can help even one girl, then so be it. I want to share my journey from a lost soul to a girl on fire. Here is my story.

I felt someone come up and jump right behind me while I was walking to the kitchen. Terrified, I turned around and saw that it was Mickey.

"Mickey, stop!" I said after he tried to scare me. Mickey, my older brother by a year and a half, was your average 17-year-old boy. Standing at about 6′4, with brown eyes, a nice golden complexion, he resembled my mom more than I did. I'm 5′8, with brown hair, blue eyes, and a lot of freckles. I'm about a year and a half younger than my brother. Our mom always said that I looked like our dad, but I could never compare notes; he left when I was younger, and I never heard from him since.

"What are you going to do, tell dad?" Mickey said, poking fun at me. We always fought and tried to prank each other, but he always had my back, and I had his.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Wow. You are such a big baby," he said while trying to get past me.

"That's what I thought," I whispered. If he heard what I said, he would give me another scolding like the one he just gave me. I got up, not walking straight, then I heard my dad call my name. Dinner time. So, I began to limp down the stairs. My dad, Mickey, and Michaelle were already at the table.

"Jade, we don't have all day," my dad said. He had been different ever since our mom died three years ago. He claimed he was over it, but we knew he took her death the hardest. Sometimes I could hear him cry at night when I passed his room. "So, how has school been treating you guys?" he asked. He knew that none of us wanted to be here. Three months ago, he decided that it would be a great idea to move us out here, claiming we could all use a fresh start, especially after Mickey and our mother died. If I had my way, we'd still be in Colorado and not in this place. But what can I say? I'm only 15 and a half.

"Fine," we all said in unison.

"Just fine. Nothing interesting, no new crushes, no new girlfriend."

"Dad, do you think we will tell you?" said Michaelle. Michelle is my step-dad's biological daughter. She is about 5'2, with brown hair, hazel eyes, and pale skin. It's to the point that she looks sick. Every other month, she has to get spray tans to look somewhat healthy. She has tried tanning outside, but she burns every time. She is about the same age as Mickey. After everything that happened, we don't talk to each other.

"Yeah, honestly, I think you will."

"Dad, no, we just started at this school that no one wants to be in," Michelle said, getting irritated with the conversation and being here. Michelle had the most challenging time with the move. We all struggled, but I think she has it worse than all of us. She was mostly upset because she had to leave her boyfriend back home.

"Well, Dad, I met this fine lady named Jessica. Let me tell you, this bi..."

"Before you finish that sentence, what did we say about calling girls bitches?"

"Who knows? But what I was going to say was this girl would do anything to be with me."

"Dad, you going to let him say that?"

"Jaden, yes, I am going to let him say it," he said, and I just rolled my eyes. My step-dad always had his favorites. It was either Mickey or Michelle. Of course, Michelle was his favorite because she is his actual daughter, and Mickey because they both play football, and Mickey had a chance to go to a D-1 school next year. My relationship with him is very rocky. I try to avoid him as much as possible. I don't like being around him. As dinner wrapped up quickly, I put my dishes in the sink and ran as soon as possible to my room. Being near him was not cutting it anymore.

Once I got into my room, I pulled out my phone and headphones. I decided that I should start doing some of my homework. There was nothing better to do, and I couldn't stand being in that room anymore. I felt like I wanted to be more productive than not. After about an hour of being in my personal space and calming myself down, I heard a knock on my door. Thinking it was Mickey or Michelle, I said, "Come in." At this moment, though, I regretted saying it. My so-called father came in, and the events that happened next, I wasn't prepared for.