Loving is Hard

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"Loving is hard when the only thing you know is not to trust anybody." "Pick your poison they said. What if I told you that I am the poison?" "As a child I always thought that my childhood would be a normal one filled with loving parents and silly memories of me playing and having fun, but, my childhood was far from what I expected." Join a 21 year old girl named Olivia Blackstone as she faces the people she swore she would never talk to again as long as she's alive. A story filled with self discovery of who she truly is along with a mysterious boy who claims he can help her break out of her trust issues and finally love again. After all Loving is Hard for Olivia ever since the only people that promised to love her, broke her her down even more than she expected with one single visit. A visit that changed her life."

Romance / Drama
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

I walk up to the door, anxiety creeping up my throat clogging it up making me want to vomit the granola bar I quickly chowed down on the way here. My eyes misted over with unshed tears that I struggled to keep at bay, my mind running all over the place as I stared at the now chipping door in front of me, the purple it once was now peeling off and falling on the creaky porch I was standing on. It was clear this house hasn’t been cared for as the rotting wood beneath my feet felt like it was about to give out under my weight. I finally calmed down enough to knock on the door, as my knuckles gently tapped against the wood, the sound echoing around the seemingly empty house, I take a step back hoping no one opened the door allowing me to enter the house that could only fuel your nightmares as a child.

’As a child I always thought that my childhood would be a normal one filled with loving parents and silly memories of me playing and having fun, but, my childhood was far from what I expected. My parents were always the type of people that always had arguments no matter where we were, in the shops, restaurant, you name the place and they probably had an argument there. It was quite sad seeing the people that brought you in this world, promising you a loving home and great memories, shouting at each other at every single opportunity they got.

My mother a beautiful woman, with middle-length shiny light brown hair, big doe green eyes that always had a mischievous glint in them and proudly standing at 5′7 feet tall. Her body had curves in all the right places that turns heads wherever she goes. Her face looks just like goddesses sculpted it with cupid bows lips and a small button nose that accentuates her high cheekbones. My dad on the other hand is a 6′4 giant with a sharp jawline and a rouged kind of handsome that gets all the girls to the yard. His wavy short midnight black hair and beautiful grey eyes that always hold a cold and distant look, only I could bring the soft glint out from the cold façade he puts up. His body is every athletes daydream as he was a champion for his swimming team back in college. They were high school sweethearts, thinking they would have a successful future when in reality they were never meant to work out with such opposite personalities.

Thinking that my parents will always be together forever was just an expectation I had since I was small. The way they used to look at each other should have been a dead giveaway that they would never last, the way my dad had this faraway look whenever my mom tried to impress him with breakfast or cleaning the house. He never said anything if he didn’t need to and only spoke if he absolutely had to and that angered my mom to the point of that being the only source of arguments around midnight when they made sure I was asleep, but, I wasn’t and I always heard them no matter how quiet they tried to be. It was only when I was 8 years old when the arguments started being a daily routine no matter when or where. At that age I didn’t know the path they were taking was painfully obviously leading to a divorce, the word that I only heard once from a woman at the park while talking on the phone. At last they got the dreaded papers that they both signed not even sparing a glance at the child they tore in two, I hated them both form that day onwards as I was taken into full custody by my mom. The beautiful woman that I respected became this monster that I had to live with till the day that I was finally 18. While I had to suffer the wrath of my mom, my dad found a new wife and started another family that he loved and cherished, not once did he contact me to tell me a happy birthday or an I love you. Since the day they divorced they completely forgot that they even had a daughter together and decided to either make me suffer or ignore me and slowly breaking me.′

I shake my head getting rid of all the memories that began to resurface. These memories only seemed like they happened yesterday when in reality it was already 3 years since I’ve seen both of my parents. The only reason I came back to my mother’s house to visit was my grandmother begging me to go back to her daughter as she was uncontrollable since I left. The conversation wasn’t that pleasant as I was in the middle of showering. At first my reaction was to throw the phone at the wall hoping my granny's voice would just stop pleading for me to go back to my “mother” and then I started listening to what she was saying telling myself that I would just disagree and that would be the end of the conversation. My granny is as stubborn as a mule so after 2 hours of arguing she convinced me to at least go visit my mother for a day and then I could go back to my apartment that I rented near my college.

That is the background story as to why I’m here at the entrance of my mothers house, hoping she didn’t hear the door so I could just scurry off to my Honda and drive back to my safe zone. After waiting around for a couple of minutes and seeing the door not open I started making my way back to my car, whistling and thanking God she didn’t open the door when all of a sudden my blood runs cold and my face drops as I hear the voice I wanted to forget.

“Welcome back Olivia”

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