Proluge!!!

A Chapter by Mariah

When I was young my mother had become insane. She blamed my father for all her, and my, problems. My father was never really around when I was growing up. My mother knew where he lived but I never did. She always wanted to hide him out of my life, but one day that all changed and frankly now I wish it didn’t change.

“Mom, I want to talk to you about dad.” I had said that fateful day.

“You know enough about him already.”

“Mom you said he was a dead beat man who left the moment you told him you were pregnant. That’s all I know, and it’s all you tell me. I need to know more about him. I don’t even know his name.”

“Sweetie do we really have to talk about this now. I have to get ready for church.” she said ending the conversation.

I stormed up to my room and slammed the door. I couldn’t believe that after sixteen years she refuses to talk to me about her past, even though it could help me realize my future.

The argument that had just transpired was a normal thing on Sunday. When I was little I would go to church with her but it hurt so much I would cry until my mother had finally had enough and dragged me out of the church. She was so mad at me so I had to go to a priest and confess my sins. Finally when I turned thirteen I told my mother I wasn’t going to take it any more. I told her I wasn’t going to church any more and she screamed at me. She yelled that I was just like my father.

That was the argument that peaked my interest in my father. I had finally realized that I was growing up with out a concerned father figure around. I had remembered being weird around all my friends’ fathers. It was like I wished for it but never hard enough. My mother had always hidden him away from me, like it was against God’s Will. It bothered me when ever I asked about him.

I had taken it on my self to look at my birth certificate and anything that would help find my true father. I looked through everything. My birth certificate didn’t hold even his name and I knew there were no child support because my mother had to work two jobs and, now being sixteen, I had to work when I wasn’t in school. Even my grandparents were terrified to give me his name. It was like he didn’t even exist.

I had to do something. I had to find some one to call dad. My mother was no help so I turned to the one person I could. My best friends.

“Guys I don’t know what to do any more.” I said complaining about my father.

“Well what do you expect? The man isn’t there for half your life and NOW you want to look for him!? That doesn’t make any sense.” says Samara.

“Hey we don’t know our dads either. Its only natural to know were half your genes come from, Samara. You can’t call her crazy for wanting something we all want. Our mothers never got married, therefore we have no one to call dad.” said Syrah.

“Thank you Syrah. At least some one understands me, unlike SOMEONE.” I said sarcastically.

“Sapphire, you never had an interest before. You always said you hated your dead beat father who left and never sends you birthday cards. Why now?”

That was a good question, I just didn’t know how to answer it. It is true I never cared if my father contacted me or not, but now I want to know, at least for one day, what its like to have a dad. Ever since my mom told me I was just like my father I wanted to know.

Yes, my friends are a little strange and start with the same beginning letter of my name. We had been friends since kindergarten.

Syrah is, obviously, a nerd but she was cool in her own way. I sometimes envy her deep green eyes that begin to blaze red when she becomes angry.

Samara is, no easy way of saying it, a b***h. She always brings you down to her level of thinking. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a great friend, but she is a bit of a controller at times. Her attitude is an awesome thing to have around.

All three of us never knew our father. I guess that’s the one thing we actually have in common. In kindergarten, Syrah was being teased about her father. More precisely, her lack of. I walked up to the person who started it and punched her face. Then Samara walked up and started yelling at the top of her lungs about how the young girl was a little b***h and how she should shut her mouth about fathers. Ever since then we’ve been friends.

“HELLOOOOO! You haven’t answered my question Sapphire.” Samara said, waking me up from my memories.

“I don’t know, to tell the truth. I know it sounds weird but I’ve just got to know.”

“Then we’re there with you Sapphire.” Syrah said.

“Yeah I guess.” Samara added.

It was then we set out to find the truth. But we didn’t know who far that would take us.

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