I desperately wanted my father to come to watch me, but I knew if I tried, he would only get angry. I walked home to Grandma and Grandpa's house after school the next day. My Grandpa always helped me with my science, math and English homework. I wanted proper encouragement from him, and my Grandma. Dad had to work late, and he barely seemed to care about where I went after school. I could go and get murdered and he wouldn't get upset.
Grandma welcomed me at the door, hugging me close and stroking my hair.
"Did you have a good day at school?" she asked, and I shrugged.
"I suppose so...I have to represent my school in a singing contest," I told her. Grandma's face lit up.
"Well done, honey!" she smiled, kissing my forehead, "What did your dad say?"
I smiled, still shocked that he had complimented me, "He smiled at me and said it was great," I began, "But he won't come and watch me. He said I was old enough for him to not hold my hand."
Grandma sighed, "It's OK, sweetie. I'll go, and Grandpa will go too I'm sure."
I smiled a little, "But I'm scared. I can't sing in front of all those people."
Grandma kissed my forehead again, "Jazzy, it's OK. That's not so bad. Be confident. You'll win easily."
"But I'm shy, and I'm nothing special," I protested sadly.
"You'll do great. Grandpa will be home in about an hour, so you can ask him when he gets back. He might be a bit tired though."
Grandma made me some pancakes with strawberries, and I finished them just as Grandpa came home.
"Hey, Grandpa," I smiled a little as he entered the kitchen.
"Hey, Jazz," he smiled back, and I went to hug him close. My grandparents were more like parents to me.
"Jazzy's been chosen to compete in a singing contest!" Grandma squealed, and Grandpa smiled.
"That's great," he said proudly, "Your mom would be so proud of you."
"Will you go, Grandpa?" I asked hopefully.
"Jasmine, why weren't you at home?" My Dad's voice sounded behind me, and I turned around. Dad was standing behind me. I sighed.
"I only wanted support," I said quietly, but Dad's expression didn't change.
"Come on, you're coming home. I need to talk to you about this singing contest, and about your latest assignment."
"I want to stay at Grandma and Grandpa's tonight," I stated. Dad rolled his eyes.
"You spend too much time here. Come on; don't act like a six year old. You're coming home," he ordered, picking up my bags.
"I'm not going!" I yelled, and ran upstairs to my room. When I stayed at my grandparent's house, I slept in my mom's old room. There were old posters of her favourite bands and films covering the wall, and her clothes were in the closet. My Dad had taken all the photos from her room, except for a picture of her holding me as a baby. He'd either left it in there to keep it out of his sight, or because he actually wanted me to see some evidence that I was loved.