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Is this really what life should be?
They all say it is, yes.
But I don't know.
Even if this 'life' is typical in today's sorry society...
...It's not right.
It's not 'life.'
Hypocrisy.
There's so freaking much of it!
It goes in circles here, over and over, and it's very sad, really.
My mother hates my father. My grandmother belittles her for it, but she hates him too.
My grandmother and mother don't ever get along, and constantly get into "denial fights."
"That mother of yours does nothing but lie. Let me tell you the truth..."
"That grandmother of yours does nothing but lie. Let me tell you the truth..."
You know, I don't know whether to believe one of you, both of you, or neither of you anymore.
I don't know what to believe.
Your own child. Your own grandchild.
Isn't that awful?
My father alternates regularly between what everyone else says is totally fake kindness and what everyone else says is total unconcern.
I've seen both. I clearly remember the "good old days"... as a tiny kid, you know? He would crack jokes and play with me and all sorts of things. He would be there, at home, for a good part of the day.
But how old was I then, 4?
As the years passed, he drifted very, very far away. And I don't think he got along with my little twin brothers at all.
I remember the one day he locked Diamond out of the house late at night because he was furious...
I remember the one night he grabbed me by the hair and lifted me up to the ceiling and I don't recall why...
I remember the one afternoon Viral and I were terrified because we were in the car with him and he was roaring at us...
I remember the countless times he came home at ungodly hours of the morning, drunk out of his head.
He drives me to class as I don't have a car, but that's really it...
He hasn't lived in this house since November began.
We've only visited his apartment three times, tops...
"I never said I didn't want those kids!"
My grandfather goes between screaming at me for being stupid and worthless to praising me for being the only kid that listens to saying how great my grandmother is to declaring that he can't stand that woman being around the house.
Both my grandparents regularly explode-- and I mean explode-- because of my mother or my brothers.
God, I try so hard to keep my own name from being added to the list of causes. It's managed to stay off for a long time. Thank you.
They scream, they shout, they break things, they throw things, they hit us, they frighten us to death.
And then they deny it the next day.
My brothers... I don't know what's happening to them.
Diamond is terribly spiteful and smartmouthed. He ignores everyone, talks back to my grandmother, hides when he has chores to do, sleeps all day. Tell him to take a bath, "I took one yesterday." Tell him to eat dinner, he'll take one tiny forkful, "I already ate dinner!" No, you ate about seven popsicles and several candy bars but that's it. For that I blame my mother, though. She won't pay any attention to what's going on with you three... she spends a good deal of her kid-concentration time on screaming at me, over work, over medical bills, over college expenses, over parts of my personality she can't stand. It's too much sometimes.
Lightning has a temper fitting to his name. He's a literal bomb when you get him angry, and that can be achieved as easily as accusing him once that he didn't do his homework (and he really didn't). He has been known to break computers, televisions, mirrors, plates, headphones, wires of all sorts, game systems, CDs, toys, books, phones, doors and heaven knows what else all in a fit of rage. You know he's mad when theres a shriek followed by a hideous crash. He screams a lot, whines whenever he talks, and cries at the drop of a hat. I don't blame the poor kid, though. I've seen and heard the sort of verbal abuse he gets from my mother almost daily. Just like me.
Viral is scaring me. 98% of his day is spent playing guitar, playing Warcraft, sleeping, or talking to his girlfriend on the phone or on an instant messenger or in person because she's staying over our house for the whole day again. He makes out with her for hours on the living room couch and my mother doesn't even bat an eye. He is terribly cruel to my parents. He will throw shockingly scathing insults at my grandmother and mother alike, not to mention my little brothers and I. He hates my father with a burning passion, and possibly my grandmother too, as he's always fighting with her and doesn't even stop when she's in tears. However he also has a terribly severe problem with depression and self-abuse. He's been cutting himself with knives, razors, and God only knows what else for about 4, 5 years now, and supposedly all because of his father. I dread to imagine why, but haven't got a clue and he won't talk. He also talks of suicide frighteningly often, and as you all know, was sent to an actual "hospital" for that very reason and was only sent home because they couldn't keep him any longer by law. He used to break down and sob in school every day, and as a result he's been homeschooled since 2008 started. I really don't know what's happening to him or how to help, but I am scared out of my freaking mind.
Me... I try disgustingly hard to keep myself from contributing to the problem.
As a kid, I was awful. I was a literal spitfire from birth to grade 5, and then I plummeted into a hyperspeed downward spiral, and only recently have I been picking up some of that old energy, but in a positive way.
As a kid... well. I was disobedient, I was horribly rebellious, I wanted to be free to live life as excitingly as I wanted to and so I hated chores and rules and time-outs and homework. I loved to draw and write and dream and walk outside for hours just talking to the monsters I knew, but I was only allowed to do that for so long. I swore, I lied, I didn't pay attention in class, I hid from responsibility. I ran around and screamed and beat up on my brothers and got into huge arguments with my mother and grandmother. In third grade, I got in such a furious fight with Viral that I knocked out three of his teeth and left him bruised and bloody... and he left me the exact same way. That scared me to death even back then, that we could actually do such a thing...
Fortunately and unfortunately, my parents and grandparents would always discipline me. With a freaking stick and belt.
That's right, the sort of discipline that today would get them filed up for child abuse. Oh, but that wasn't even the worst! The rosaries and rice were dreaded enough, but what really scared me into submission was the lethal combination of my grandmother's truly terrifying fire and brimstone lectures, and the little pit of hell we had in our own basement... the coal cellar.
Dear God, are those ever bad memories. Bad, BAD memories. That was the ultimate, unopposable threat-- "If you don't do what I'm telling you to right now, I'm going to lock you in the cellar!"
I remember my little brother Diamond being dragged, kicking and screaming, down the cellar steps, and my little brother Lightning sobbing his eyes out and trying to pry my mother's fingers off his twin's arms.
I remember my little brother Lightning being dragged down those same stairs, shrieking in terror, and my little brother Diamond simply watching his plight from the hallway.
I don't ever remember Viral going down there. Well, my grandmother always said he was mom's favorite, even today. Except today it's painfully obvious.
I was dragged down there twice. I may have been a brazen little brat at times, but at other times I was a perfect angel, and not just for the brownie points. You know me today; I was still Jewel Lightraye back then, even though I didn't realize it until I was about 8 years old. But Preludove is a whole other story.
The first time I was dragged down I only got halfway down the steps. I was crying my eyes out and pleading and promising that I would be better, and somehow they let me go.
The second time was the last... and the most traumatic experience of my entire freaking life. Devil in the hall included.
I don't even remember what I did. I don't even remember if I did anything.
All I remember is being bodily dragged downstairs, down the hallway, past the iron-bolt door, down another hallway, and all the way down to the darkest corner of the house-- the coal cellar.
And they shoved me in there.
Well, something inside me snapped. In a burst of pure terror, I kicked the wooden door so freaking hard I completely shattered the window and broke the hinges. Spitfire that I was, I ran for my life down that hallway and all the way to the stairs, mum and grandma on my tail-- but my grandfather was standing, huge and indomitable, in the middle of the steps. I was trapped.
But I couldn't take it. I risked falling a good 8 feet sideways and jumped around him, where there was no railing, and ran all the way back up to blessed ground floor... but my dad was waiting.
By this point I was too scared to do anything and didn't want him to get angry, heavens no, so I just collapsed into sobs on the kitchen floor. Well, they picked me up and tied me to a chair while they took turns lecturing me, but none of it even registered as I was just too damn happy to be alive, I swear I had thought I was going to die.
How old had I been, 5?
I don't remember. Cruelly young, that's what.
...
But it's not all bad. I have some amazing memories.
Like those sunny weekend days mum would randomly decide to go shopping with me, and we would stop at Borders and have coffee and talk about the new sci-fi magazines and wander through the malls and just talk and laugh and crack jokes about Wizeman and discuss school and work just like a mom and her child should.
Like those fantastic afternoons where everyone else was gone to work or lessons or wherever, and it would be just me and my grandparents home, and they would be all smiles and would make sure I knew how much it meant to them that I was keeping them company, that I was always so kind to them, that I always listened and was a great grandchild to have. Just those bright summer afternoons where I would help my grandmother with her puzzles and she would help me with my homework and have a lot of fun doing so. Lovely, priceless moments, as you never know how much time you have left...
Like those nights like tonight where my dad takes the time to drive me home from college classes and ends up reminiscing about his good old fun days in the 70s, and we always end up laughing until our sides hurt. Stories about bars with peanut shells all over the floor and only sold beer in mason canning jars and the ones where you could buy a whole case for $7 but you had to buy a case or nothing at all. Stories about ice-skating on the roads in our hometown because they never plowed them back then and stories about his friends street racing on the back roads and stories about how many cars he used to have as he was in the business and the one time he literally traded one for a drill, stories about hot rods that he custom built and had to sell because he needed money to support his children. Just bits of his life that I got to add to my memories. The sort of time I miss spending with him, like when I was a kid.
Like this afternoon, when I came home from school and Viral glomped me out of nowhere. Like those times where Diamond and I would sit and laugh over Sonic for hours and talk about Pokemon and take turns blowing the dust off items in Spectrobes. Like those times Lightning had no one to talk to so I would sit with him and chat about trains and planes and Reala and Tallest Red for as long as he wanted. All those little moments which make me love my little brothers all the more.
I really do have some truly amazing memories... despite all the bad times.
But that's life, you know?
...
Pardon me, but I want to be a freaking spaz for two minutes. Just two minutes.
Observe!
AMBER!! I thought I'd never see that picture of him again, that crazy orange bugger that he is.
But I found it, I FOUND the darn thing, I laugh at the odds, ha ha ha, and now I'm absolutely euphoric.
Yes, I am a spaztastically huge fan of Amber here. Gotta love him.
I swear, I am going to make that picture into a poster and tape it to my wall. That or stick it on a shirt. Because I can.
And isnt Amber dear technically the most androgynous of all the Gens? I mean, I often see him referred to as a female, but he's always drawn as a male. It's really awesome. And I'm antisexual anyaway, so it's all good. XD
Hm... where was I?
Oh yes.
Life.
My mother said earlier...
"The only people who enjoy life are the people in fairy tales."
"If you keep saying you want a career that will actually work with your talents, that will contribute something to society, you're never going to work a day in your life."
Well, I'm working now, am I not?
Even right now, typing this crazy stuff. This is my self-hired job, really.
I constantly work to inspire, to change others, to make people think and maybe open their eyes and hearts a little bit. That's always going to be my job, first and foremost, no matter what career I eventually get into (and if everything goes as planned, I'll be doing this same darn thing and I'll be getting paid for it).
I will always be Jewel Lightraye, and I will always be a light to whoever needs me.
That's my life.
Good and bad.
Living the best you can, living with others in mind, living for your own good and for the good of the world and never compromising who you are...
That's the way it's supposed to be.
I freaking love it.
Enjoy your life, kids.
You've only got one.
-s. cannon
