In my eighteen years of life, I still can’t believe on September 11 that I not only lost a friend, but my father also. I can still imagine lying in bed that night crying about the death of a friend wanting my dad to come comfort me. I found him outside though with the woman down the street. I thought to myself lying there, “What if he was cheating on my mom with her?” I never thought though that he would be that selfish and hurt his family like that, but I was wrong.
I was ten years old and I had a little brother that was about seven. Our parents meant the world to us. Even though they would fight about their problems I never expected a divorce, yet alone a cheater for a father. My parents ended up splitting up and my mother had custody of me and my brother. It was the hardest time of my life though. I would go to school and cry at lunch, starve myself. My friends would try to comfort me and tell me that my parents would work things out, but I knew that it was going to get worst. I would be at a friend’s house down the street and walk home to find my father at that woman’s house outside. All the pain he put upon me, I just let it out on him, cursing him and hitting him. Then I would run home crying to my mom. I hated my father for what he did to us.
My mother had it the worst. The love of her life left her for another woman and that woman was supposed to be her friend. She lost a lot of weigh and was going through depression. She lost her job because of that woman also. I wanted to strangle the woman. How could God make someone like this? All she is was a home wrecker that breaks families apart. I helped my mother take care of my little brother while juggling school work and her looking for another job that took almost a year to find. I was a straight A student until after they split up, then I started making B’s and C’s. I held myself together for my family though.
My parents went to court a lot about visiting rights. I was to spend every other weekend at my dad’s apartment. I never went though; I was hurt by him so bad. I didn’t go for about a year until my mom started making me go. He was still with that woman and would bring us around her even though it was against the court orders. I would drift off in my own little world while I was there and pretend like I was beating her up for what she did. It seemed like not long after the divorce they got married. So she became my step mother. Like on Cinderella she was an evil stepmother, always tried to blame things on me. She knew I hated her, and knows I still do. How could she be so stupid to marry someone that cheated on their wife, that he had children with? Thank god she can’t have kids. I started trying to regain the love toward my father. We started doing stuff together, but she always had to come along. I let things go and forgave my dad, but deep down still wonder sometimes if I should.
My dad and I do get along well now. He gives the world to me because he knows he screwed up bad. He tries to make it up to me like that. My mother is happily married also. I always say karma will get you. And trust me he has seen his set of karma in his life. I have always loved my father, but don’t trust him for what he did. He still is a cheater in my eyes and always will be.
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