An: Hello! I am very new to this fanfiction writing thing. In fact this is my very first attempt. I just hope I do not do that bad. This story is loosely based on a movie I really like and I thought that maybe I could use some ideas from it. If you can guess which one is it I will give you a cookie or something. I have to say that english is NOT my first language, hopefully I will be doing ok, but be kind. Im thinking about writing from 8 to 12 chapters. Lets see how it goes. Review please! It is what keeps someone writing after all. (Despite me being more of a babbler than a writer).
Disclaimer: The only thing I rightfully own is a stupid student loan. So yeah, not even my soul is mine, I sold it.
xoxo
If someone asked me to start from beginning I would probably slap them. Mainly because I'm not really sure when it started. This story is more than just a silly little tale that I would tell my grandchildren (Even though I probably will). This is my story. My tale. My love.
I was born in a very big city. A city that has a life of its own and seems to be in constant movement. I actually believe that that city is a recurrent character of my life. I am talking about New York.
I definitely didn't grow up knowing everything a kid could about love. My parents weren't the most affectionate people out there. How they met and their time together is what I would imagine the opposite of a love story to be like. My cousin Daniel waited until I was of age to tell me their "fairytale". It is not something you would like your little girl to hear. My father was a bar tender in my grandfather's small tavern. Which I must say isn't located in the safest part of town. It was a cheap shit hole with choppers as its main customers. Dad was 23 years old and wanted to be a writer. He begged for higher education but he was the only male child my grandparents had, so he was bound to take care of the family business even if he didn't like it and thought he was too good to listen to drunken escapades, lame jokes, and motorcycle equipment. My father was very smart, and spent his whole free time reading from Charles Dickens to Günter Grass. He got a couple of scholarships to attend several decent colleges, but his father wouldn't budge. That's how he started getting bitter. I guess that is what happens when you love something so much and for some stupid and absurd reason you are not allowed to pursue it. I suppose that is pretty relatable. Dad didn't have many friends. He grew up around men who drank cheap beer and had a pretty misogynist idea of what being a man was, there was no room for sensitivity or daydreaming, my father was an odd kid, according to the people he had contact with. He worked in that bar from 7 pm to 4 am, which was closing time. He didn't have much time to meet people. Certainly he didn't have time or a lot of desire to get a girlfriend.
At least no until he was invited to one of his father's gatherings in some family friend's house. He wasn't really sure why his dad's friend asked for him to go, he guessed it was just some sort of a "nice thing to do" and this friend was being polite, but he didn't say anything, unnerving his father was the last thing he wanted to do. So he attended. He arrived with his dad and a bottle of cheap whiskey. There were only men in said place and they were playing poker while smoking huge cigars, which my father thought were probably bought in a convenience store. Soon enough, his father was immersed in the game cursing and laughing with his friends while dad sat in a small sofa by himself. He didn't really play poker nor had any money to gamble to being with. So he was just focused on unimportant thoughts when he saw some movement in the porch. Without saying anything he exited the house and observed the large bench by the door. A girl with long brown hair and a blue dress had her sight lost on the street. Doubtfully, my dad coughed a bit too loudly to make himself noticed, and the girl looked startled his way. I don't really know for sure, but Daniel said that my dad's breath got caught in his throat when he saw just how beautiful the creature in front of him was, I think Daniel was just being a romantic bastard, but the only thing I have on the matter is his word, so I might as well consider it. Besides this, what I really know for sure was that she had dark deep blue eyes, and that is just because I have the same shade on mine. My father was a loss for words and the girl with him wasn't much help, just staring at him with her mouth slightly opened. Dad actually believed they were having some kind of moment until said girl freaked out. She stood up and asked him who he was, in a very alarmed manner that confused the man. He calmly tried to explain who his father was and the reason for being there tonight. The girl just looked at him for a few moments and disappeared through the door, leaving my father to think that this girl was quite odd. But the actual bad thing about this was that he found it attractive. My dad was a stupid man.
Stupid and very stubborn. And a bit stalkerish if you think about it. Being the romantic he was, he started to investigate the girl, her name, where she went to school to (she was still in high school and nowadays my dad could go to prison for that), and overall just decided to chase her. He believed that she was the love of his life and their story would begin with just the right push. She wasn't really that interested at the beginning. She avoided him and ignored him most of the time. It was a hard chase. As much as she was beautiful she was rude, and as sweet as she looked she was cold. But my father was very happy to continue his futile pursuing, he couldn't think of anything else than how soft her hair was (despite to never have touched it) and how bright her smile was (despite to never have seen it). He was obsessed. A year passed by uneventful. And suddenly from one day to another she changed her mind. If my father was as smart as he was supposed to be, he would have notice how weird this was, but he was stupid and in love, so he paid no mind and his happiness was never ending. They dated for 6 months or so, and what she didn't do she made up with words. She was still cold and didn't like to be touched, but said such sweet words that my father thought she just had to get used to him. Just after the first three months ended she told him she wanted to get married, and the way she did it was a bit pressuring, she wanted to get married as soon as possible. My father would have liked to be the one to "propose" to this "little angel" but still, being the idiot he was he couldn't get over the happiness of her wanting to marry him.
So they got married in a very rushed ceremony and had the blessing of his and her parents. He was glowing with pride and wanted to form his little family with the girl, he was just full with joy. The girl was another matter. She seemed happy for the first three months of marriage, at least enough to put out a couple of times. My dad was ecstatic and he had this idea formed in his head of how he felt, how she felt, and how everything was going. But sometimes, people can fall into illusions if that is what they really want, it is very easy to lose grasp of reality if everything around you is a fantasy. And that is exactly what it was. The now "woman" got pregnant, and it really wasn't the happy ever after my father was expecting. My dad was really excited about being a father, but her wife started to withdraw herself more and more from him in such a way that he actually noticed. She didn't let him touch her and he believed it was because she was hormonal, so he let her be. Sometimes she cried herself to sleep at night and dad felt like dying just by seeing her suffer like that and not being able to do anything about it. If she talked very little at the start of her pregnancy, at the end it was weird if she uttered a word. But finally she gave birth to a healthy daughter, the only thing she did well in her whole life. My father was joyful and celebrated the whole night. When he arrived home the only thing he could find in the small apartment was me crying in my crib, totally alone. My mother left us the same day I was born. Later on, everyone found out that she was dating and in love with some married construction worker who had 2 kids and a blind wife. Her father didn't let her be with him, even when this man talked to him saying that he would leave his family. So, the dude started pressuring his kid into being with my dad when he found out that my father was stupidly in love with his daughter. He threatened her with sending her to a convent in Maine where his sister, who was a nun, lived, and he might have said some stuff about hurting the man she was seeing, who is so clearly a victim in this tale. That was why she agreed to start dating my father, whose only sin was being an idiot. When she got pregnant she couldn't handle anymore how she would never be able to be with her caveman again, so she fled. No one knew anything about her after that. She just disappeared. Like my dad's will.
I grew up with my dad being a single parent. He was never very affective, didn't talk much and got drunk a lot. He never hurt me, at least no physically, nor said mean things to me. But I did notice the looks of hurt and resentment he gave me when he thought I wasn't looking. I never lacked for a roof or food, I went to school and used to play around freely, but I probably lacked a father. I am convinced he was not a bad man, even though he was an awful parent. He worked in that holy tavern his whole life. When he wasn't there, he was at home watching TV and drinking cheap beer. Half the time I would arrive from school to find him passed out and snoring loudly on the sofa. The other half he would be reading the same fucking book over and over again. It was that story about that Werther dude. I read it when I had just learnt how to and couldn't understand it at all. It wasn't until years later that I did. And then my father died.
He had a very severe case of cirrhosis and no one, but him, knew it. He never told anyone. I was 7 years old. I remember being in class when my cousin Daniel arrived and picked me up. When I saw him I couldn't help but smile, he was my favorite person in the world and the only relative we still had in the city. He gave me a little sad smile and grabbed my hand after I had put everything in my backpack. We walked until we reached home, having my hand tightly secured in his, with me talking non-stop about how I wanted a Spiderman costume for Halloween. He didn't say a word but lightly smiled at certain points of my rant. When we arrived home he became very serious and told me to sit down in the sofa. I did and he started talking about how my dad had a problem and no one knew how bad it really was. He told he died because he drank too much and how he was in heaven now with my mother (that was the story I was made believe until I turned 15) and what was going to happen next. My cousin lived in a very small cellar inside the bar. Daniel was 19 and his parents had moved to California 3 years before. He had decided to stay and work in dad's bar and continue the family business. My dad was in that moment the owner, since that was the only thing that his father left him. Daniel was going to move in with me, because fortunately my dad owned the apartment where we lived, to take care of me, and he will continue working on the tavern, as it was the only way we could be having an income. So that was how Daniel became my guardian.
My life changed a lot after that. Daniel was no parent, and despite having nothing to replace, he didn't become my father figure, but he certainly was like an older brother. He looked out for me and advised me when I had any sort of trouble. His views may have been a bit questionable, but I was glad I had someone to actually back me up. He taught me how to defend myself, because I punched like a girl (wonder why), how to play sports, and to appreciate good music. On his free evenings we would lay together in the floor while listening to his old records. He showed me everything he knew, and that is more than I can thank him for, that was what really mattered.
To say I was a bit of a tomboy would be an understatement. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was pretty comfortable with my girl "status", but I was a bit rough around the edges. While the other girls were having tea with fake biscuits, I was beating up Billy Rogers because he had said I was an orphan. While other girls were playing with dolls I was in Central Park playing baseball with Dan. And while other little girls watched unintelligent cartoons in TV I was whining for not being able to go to a concert just because I was young. Daniel just let me be. He was always saying how I could be the greatest pitcher the Yankees had ever seen, or if I wanted to be a superhero I could become one. Being a girl never really got in the way.
I remember the day I arrived crying because some boy had been mean to me. Daniel got really mad, but at me. He told me that I shouldn't let some other kid treat me in a way I didn't deserve and I had to learn to defend myself. The next time someone said something about me to hurt me I did defend myself. Daniel had to go to school to talk to the principal about my unacceptable behavior, and despite nodding to whatever crap that old lady was saying, he had a small smile in his lips. He never said anything, but smiled all the way home.
Overall, my life was pretty simple back then. I did well in school, was very focused in my "sports career", and wandered around my neighborhood having lots of "adventures", which included just riding my bike around and exploring the area. Yes, life was pretty simple. Until my first year of middle school.