Once

I had returned home from the playschool that day, as soon as grandma picked my 4 year old self I began to tell her all about my day with great enthusiasm. I remember back then me, my dad and grandmother lived together in the city. Mom was travelling for work, she was a star , a performer. That's what my dad would tell me everytime I asked. And I was plenty entertained by the tales of her adventure as a toddler, untill that particular day. I huffed and puffed, asking to see my mother, demanding to know the exact place where I could find my mom and ask her to make a cake for my birthday. My friend had told me the cakes mums make were better than bakery ones and I loved cakes. "Tomorrow is my birthday and Mumma has to make cake!" I demanded. Shuffling endlessly in my grandma's hold.

She sighed and let me stand on the ground before she crouched to my level. Her eyes seemed tired. Perhaps of the facade , perhaps of me. "She cannot come, not Tommorow not ever. She's a star, up in the sky now. God won't return her" There was no way I was about to believe that. That's not what dad had told me. Holding in my sniffles I ran across the house, to locate my dad. Someone had to correct grandma. She wasn't making any sense! How could her mumma leave her without making her a birthday cake. Finding my dad in his study I rushed in and immediately tattled about everything. For the first time I saw the life drain from my dad's face. As if he had finally let go of an act he was only keeping up to appease me. He sternly told me to never bring that up again. I don't think nothing I did ever made him smile again. I wished I could go back and never ask for a birthday cake. If only I could get my old dad back.

I suppose he had only stayed in the city for my sake but being surrounded by places he had visited with my mother overwhelmed him soon enough. That was when we moved to this town. That's how I found him. Back then I didn't understand the "hate" emotion so whenever he tried to run away I thought he just wanted me to chase him. Even when I realised I wasn't welcomed in his life I helped myself in shamelessly. He was right I was responsible. I pushed myself in forcefully, I took advantage of his loving family to have a bit what I wasn't given. Like a savage person I caused him pain endlessly.

I would make up my mind and try to leave him everyday 8pm when I went home to my dad and our dear companion, silence. Each second that I spent trying to do my best to be happy for everyone to see seemed tedious. I was tried of waiting for my father to just admit that... Although my mother had died long ago I too was beginning to die for him, day after day, as I grew up to be like her. Instead I decided to wait for him, he was the only person who didn't pity me, Because he hated me and never lied about it. The one person who saw me for who I was and accepted it even if it was to despise me. I didn't know how to deal with anything else either. The day his highschool mate approached me I foolishly looked to him. Like any animal does towards their owner when put in a vulnerable position. I acknowledged that I could only ever accept his dismay. Wishing for anything else was reaching for the stars. And I had an aversion to them.