Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ For Those Who Care ❯ 2 ( Chapter 2 )

 

I remember how it all started, I know if it wasn't for him this never would have happened. We would all be sitting, at this very moment, watching T.V with out a care in the world. Instead I'm here writing all this down so people can see how much I've suffered behind there backs, suffering something that they chose to either ignore of didn't see.

I was 7 when this all happened, when it all went down hill, god that seems so long ago. Even now I can still remember all that happened, I mean how could I forget? After all it wasn't some simple stroll in the park. I remember I went to school just like any other day. My mom picked me up when school ended and took me home. I did my homework while she cooked. Everything was going like it always did until it was time for my dad to arrive home. I waited for him but he never came. My mom grew worried, as did I; it was never like my dad to be late. Eventually I had to go to sleep but I didn't want to. I was eager to wait for my dad to come home and ask him why he was home so late. I would wait for him and once he came and then I would ask him why he was late and didn't play with me. I never got around to asking him that question.

I stayed awake that night, for how long I can' remember. I pretended to be asleep until I knew my dad was home. He had gotten home late and went straight to his room where my mother was, but it wasn't just his room, it was their room. I heard my mom that night; she had asked my dad why he was late. He seemed reluctant to answer at first but eventually he did. He told her not to worry, sometimes work gets in the way and a man can't leave to see him family. Now that I look back on what he said I can' help but laugh. It was all so well rehearsed, like he stood in front of the mirror of his office reciting over and over again what lie he would tell my mom. If she knew he was lying then she ignored it, instead of asking anymore questions she went to bed and after a few minutes my dad did to. I fell asleep shortly after my mom and dads “chat,” if you want to call it that.

The next morning I woke up just like any other day, and then I remembered what had happened the night before. I decided to brush it off; after all I was to naïve to make anything of it. My dad would always be gone and at work by the time I woke up so I was used to it being me and my mom is the morning. When I entered the kitchen she looked the same as she always did to me. That night my dad didn't come home again until I was fast asleep, and just like the night before my mo worried till no end. I didn't wait up for him that night, I was too tired to do that and didn't think him coming late was that important. I remember telling my self that he was a dad, my dad, and like all dads he had to work so he could buy me toys. For 2 weeks my dad came home late, not everyday but enough for it to strike some suspicion from my mom. So one night before I went to bed my mom called his office, she wanted to know what it was exactly that kept him out working so late at night. She called his office and asked for him it took a few moments but eventually something happened. I was sitting there the whole time and I cold see my eyes going from a worried wife who was waiting anxiously for her husband, to those of a sad and yet angry wife. I didn't know what was going on but all I knew was that my mom started crying shortly after she hung up the phone.

Instead of telling me to go to sleep and tucking me in my mom walked calmly to her room where she let her self cry freely. I heard her sobs and thought she had gotten hurt. I had gotten hurt many times before and they hurt so much that I cried too. Instead of going to see her right away I went into the kitchen and took out a box of bandages. After making sure it was the right box I took them to the room she shared with my dad and grabbed her hand, I put on of the band aids on her hand and looked at her. Being young I had no idea that my dad had caused her sadness. When she looked down at me she wiped her tears and smiled at me like nothing was wrong. I thought she was feeling better now so I gave her a hug and left to bed. The following morning my mom seemed to do things a lot slower then usual. She seemed to have lost the joy she had days before. Her eyes seemed sad when I looked at her but I never said anything.

That evening before school was let out my dad came home early. My mom talked to him that day, I know this only because one of my neighbors told me when I was old enough to understand. When my dad had come home my mom asked him why he was always coming home so late, my dad used his usual response. He told her it was business and strictly business, but she knew better then to believe him. She told him he was lying and that if he had something to tell her he should say it, he said there was noting to be said and left to watch his sports. Ever since that day I could see my parents growing farther and farther apart. The spark they once had died out leaving anything but happiness between them. I noticed this even though I was young but didn't think too much of it. I had fights with my friends all the time but we always made up and I thought it would be the same with the both of them. Not even two moths after this event my mom caught my dad in the act; he was in his office with his secretary when my mom let herself in.

When my dad saw her he said what many might say, “it's now what you think,” but it was what she thought and it always had been. I know she must have ran or driven home devastated because she forgot to pick me up from school. I waited for 2 hours, 30 minutes alone and the rest with my teacher. I would have stayed outside waiting if my teacher hadn't seen me. I told her my mom was late but not to worry because she would never for get me, after all how could she, she loved me to much to forget. I called my mom using the school phone but she didn't answerer. After 2 hours and fifteen minutes she came. She really had forgotten about me. She was to caught up thinking about my dad's betrayal to even remember that I existed, that she had a child