Fault.

Once when I was six and almost seven, and the need and want for a birthday party had arrived, I was told that I was entirely too young to understand any of it.

I could not understand why I was not allowed to invite Wesley, who had been there for me through all the scraped knees on the playground, all the snow fights that were a tad bit one-sided, and all the times I had noone else to push me on the swingset, because 'Dad' doesn't mean anything to anyone anymore.

My Grandma told me that it just wasn't the proper thing to do,

and that I would understand when I was older.

 

Once when I was 8 and almost 9, hours after my Mother had swerved the car to the right to avoid a headon collision with a drunk driver in a big black truck, I was told that I was entirely too young to understand any of it.

I could not understand why some people self destructed the way they do. I was being driven to stay with my Grandmother who would never let me talk to any boys by my cousin Becca who talked entirely too much about things I did not care about. She told me about her cat named Bubbles and her sister whose name I do not recall, and then she told me about her job.

She told me her and Bubbles spent most nights getting blazed and drinking till their stomachs cramped and their heads exploded. Most days she went to work drunk.

I asked her why she would do such a thing. I told her she would need her job to survive to pay her bills and buy food.

She laughed, told me none of that mattered when you were free,

and told me I would understand when I was older.

 

Once when I was 10 and almost 11, it was Halloween and I had not yet decided that I was too cool for free candy. I could never understand why adults were never so excited about Halloween and Christmas. I figured I would understand when I was older.

There were two little boys leaving my neighbors house, their bags full of candy and their Power Ranger costumes shining under the street light. Though they had more candy than there were leaves on the ground, this is what brought out the dimples on their cheeks and the giggles from their round bellies. They were jumping in the leaves, and I have never since heard a sweeter sound than their laughter.

I was startled at the sound of a cough, and I turned to see their "Mother", cigarette in hand, glaring at me. I apologized as she yelled at them, and went home to ask my mother why she was so angry.

She sighed and said,

"Chloe Belle, you'll understand when your older. Hopefully you'll never have to."

I didn't know what she meant at the time.

I think I do now.

 

So now I'm 16 almost 17,

sharing a bed with a boy whose name is not and will never be Wesley,

Getting trashed and smashed and totally baked the day before school

Screaming at my sister for laughing too hard in her room with her friend,

and I still do not understand any of it.

I hope that I never, ever have to understand any of it.

 

Author's Note

Stop lying to your kids.

Reviews

[Daniel]

Whoa, this was very powerful. I loved how you used, I'm assuming, real life situations and how you didn't quite understand what was going on.

Another thing that I found great was the way you started each one with "I'm ____ about to be _____". It showed the progression of age while keeping the reader interested in what was about to happen.

Great job! =D

[Alias Fletcher]

I never have understood why people do as they do. Probably never will. Happy Holidays! :) charly

[Zatoichi]

when you are 36 and almost 37
and your kids are filled with whys
youll understand how love and lies can co-exist.



I used to hate hearing how i was gonna understand one day. I understand a lot more now but it's sorta like understanding why the surgeon has to cut your legs off. Z

I very much like the way you used the rhetorical device- when I was 8 and almost 9- very clever of you. It definitely keeps the reader involved and moving forward with you. good write