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Author:
iluvniki4444 PM
Maybe I'm a bad person, maybe the reason everyone is sad... could that be my fault? I'm a screw up, a hinderance. Why doesn't anyone agree? An autobiography of my life, since it began all those long years ago.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Friendship - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,500 - Reviews: 2 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 01-11-13 - Published: 01-10-13 - id: 3091011
A+  A-   Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten

Dear Ab,

Hello again! Sorry I kinda stopped writing for a moment there, I was getting too emotional. LOL! Anyway where did I stop? ... Oh right!


The next morning (a Saturday if I recall) I woke up to find she'd just finished packing. "You and I are moving." she said simply when I asked.


I remember feeling numb, giving her a blank stare.

She grabbed my hand and headed for the door.

That's when things got a little harder, my dad came downstairs. He looked to the bag in my mother's hand to her other that gripped my arm.

Anger was clear on his face.

"Courtney," He scolded in a calm voice that masked his anger. "Let go of my daughter."

Just like that the waterworks started, she threw me away from her and into a cupboard. I remember it hurt a lot, but I don't recall exactly how much.

She was crying waving between me and my father hysterically. "You never cared about me did you! It's all about this little bitch!"

Terrance was giving me a worried look but he refocused his attention on the crazy woman in front of him, "Courtney don't talk about her like that!" He looked furious and here's the thing about my dad, he's never angry.

He's about the most easy-going -and over protective so I guess I understand now- person I've ever met!

She ignored the hostility coming off him in waves and grabbed me -a recovering me- from the ground.

We left then.

2 months passed and everyday I asked when I could go back to daddy's house, we were currently living in a small summer-house belonging to one of my grandmother's friends.

At my age, -A very proud 1st grader- I'd had began to develop a crush on a fellow class member of mine.

He was the smartest person I'd ever met, though I'd never talked to him I would sometimes listen to what he said unconsciously and he made me laugh a lot.

Before long I was your typical love struck 5-year-old, still struggling to adjust to my new 'home'.

Every night another man came into the house, I never understood why they'd stay overnight back then, or what the look in their eyes meant when they stared at my mother.

One day, after those 2 months officially passed I came home to find my other sibling were in the house with us.

At first I was really happy, I'd been lonely without my two older brothers, Ryan and Jake.

Jake was the oldest, 5 years older than me while Ryan was only 3 years older.

But then I saw Jake was sobbing, his head against his knees, while Ryan just looked upset.

When he saw me he put on a big confident smile, but it was clearly faked. "Niki! Wow, it's been a while hasn't it!"

I nodded happily jumping over to hug him, "Hey why's Jake crying?"

Ryan got this uncomfortable look on his face and he laughed nervously. "Oh you know... he's just being a wuss."

At this point Jake had stiffened slightly but he didn't stop crying, he'd actually started to go into hysterics.

I didn't move to defend him from the jab, after all I'd always idolized Ryan. He could do no wrong, even picking on a person that was currently defenseless couldn't be a mean gesture when it came from him.

So I nodded in agreement. "Right! He's a big wuss!"

My eyes lit up as I started tugging on his hair. "Oh OH! I met this really awesome boy OHH you have to meet him!"

Ryan's eyes were narrowed as he rose an eyebrow. "...A boy?" A smirk appeared as he laughed, "Hey Jake! Niki's got a crush! What's his name?" He asked eagerly.

"...Kyle."

"Kyle and Niki sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" He started setting me down from my current spot on his lap to get up and dance.

Of course my face had turned red.

"First comes love! Then comes marriage! Then comes the baby in the baby carriage!"

A small laugh came from behind him and it seemed Ryan's picking had made Jake come out of his funk and feel a small bit better.

My anger and embarrassment were swept away and I gave Ryan a look that I'm sure included stars in my eyes. He'd only made fun of me to make Jake feel better, a genius that's what he was!

My suspicion was confirmed when Ryan cast him a satisfied grin, "See! Told you it's not so bad, Niki's here!"


It was only a few days after that, that we moved to a trailer park that was near there, and when we went to church people began to...stare.

After about a week of that I found out that my mother had spread a rumor around. My father hit her and us. He'd even threatened me with a chainsaw. 'laugh' Yeah right.

To tell the truth, it was just the opposite of that.

My mother used to hit us when my father was at work, but she always hit me the most. She hated that I was a girl, she hated that my dad paid me more attention than her.

In one fight my father interjected and when she once again yelled at him for 'not sticking to her side' he pointed to the bathroom. "Go look in the mirror." He'd reply. "You're the tall one."


When my brother Jake was just a baby she came running out of the house with her hand around his neck, waving him around like a rag doll. "I KILLED MY BABY!" She screamed over and over again.

He was later taken to the hospital and would have died if not for my dad taking him there.


Then there was the time that Ryan was 2 and she pushed his baby walker -with him inside it- down our basement stairs.

Twenty cement steps and a cement platform at the bottom, his walker was completely destroyed and he himself had a gash on his forehead.


And lastly the time that she turned on the TV when I was one year old. She turned it to a static channel and started making a keening noise in the back of her throat.

When my father came downstairs she had a large butcher knife raised over my tiny body, my siblings were crying beside me as I slept.

"What's going on?" My father asked cautiously.

She looked at him with blank eyes. "On your knees! Jesus is in the tv. He told me to take the children to heaven."

My father always the quick thinker got on his knees as told and pretended to listen to the tv. "Oh! Alright I'll tell her."

He turned to my mother. "Courtney, you're mistaken. He didn't say to take them to heaven, he said that he wanted us to take care of them so they have long happy lives, THEN they'll go to heaven."

My mother had looked at him doubtfully, but allowed him to take the knife from her hands and bring us back up to our cradles.

The next day he took her to the hospital.


After testing her the doctor asked to speak to him alone and told him that she had... well I can't remember the exact disease but to get down to easy words... she was crazy. L-O-C-O.

She put the Loony in Loony Tunes.

The doctor explained it like this. "If a person without the disease sees a tiger in a dark corner their mind can understand that it's not actually a tiger. If Courtney sees a tiger in a dark corner she's missing the part of the brain that connects with the reality that isn't there. She could turn on the lights and still swear the tiger WAS there, it had just left."

She took medication that could bridge the gap, but she went to lengths to assure that she didn't have to, like pretending to take one for my father -who was counting her pills- then as she admitted, flushing it down the toilet.

Anyway, back to things I remember and don't just have medical records and witnesses for.


... Actually I think I'll end there for today instead, it's exhausting writing all this stuff down, but it's making me feel better! ^_^

Thanks for reading! Again, please no no flames! :(

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