All Mine

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June 13, 2017 by Marguerite Ashton

Dear Bess,

One should know that being rich doesn’t prevent you from the realities of life. Mom kept me in a Christian bubble and no form of ugly was allowed to penetrate it. She had me wired to think that anyone who didn’t attend church was bad people and because of that shield, I had to learn the hard way about life.

Mom took me away from my dad when I was fourteen. She spoon-fed me lies and I gobbled each one up that put my dad in a bad light just so I could get my way and live with her. Mom gave me everything I wanted, all I had to do was ask.

I would later learn from my counselor that I was getting ice cream from Mom while Dad gave me vegetables. Mom did everything for me, cook, clean my room, folded my clothes while he did the nitty-gritty stuff, like discipline, chores and learning to take responsibilities for my actions. Well, I didn’t like doing any of those things and I wanted out.

With their divorce coming up on its seventh year, I was tired of being shuffled back and forth between both households and was done. The truth be told, I was angry with Dad for leaving the family. He left when I was seven years-old and I believed he cheated me out of having both parents and I wanted him to pay. I wanted him to hurt just as he had hurt me.

By this time, I started lining up my cards to play. Dad was the king, Mom was the queen and I was the Joker. It was easy to play one against the other and not be caught because they hated each other so much that neither checked to see if I was lying.

Their words were like venom and they used it to inflict pain but I was always in the middle getting the poison.

Whenever they would argue I would bury my head in a mystery book and pretend that I was reading, praying that neither would pull me in to take sides. That was only a dream. Whether I was in Mom’s SUV or Dad’s sports car, it didn’t take long after they ended their call to turn around and say,

“Do you see Codi, what your Dad is trying to do? I try so hard to reason with him but he doesn’t want to listen. He always has to be right. He has no idea on how to be a Dad.”

Or

“Codi, this is one of the many reasons I divorced your mother. I hope you never grow up to be like her.”

I was fed up with being used as some sort of venting box. So I found a way to end this stupid mess and created my own world. One that didn’t include my parents or rules. A world where the only thing that mattered was what I wanted and not the selfish needs of Mom and Dad.

Signed:

Blindsided

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Criminal Lines Book Club

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