Who I Was

By Dori Fuchs

Who knew that a simple letter could ruin someone's life forever? Who knew that a simple letter could damage a little girls trust? Who knew that a simple letter could make the person you love the most break down to pieces?

He knew.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503570788

Book preview

Goodnight

John left that letter on my mom’s night stand the night before he left without any warning. He left her seven months before my brother, Allan, was born. John didn’t know she was pregnant. I was only six. I remember the morning after he left. I remember everything.

I remember hearing a loud noise; it sounded like glass shattering. I looked through the peep hole near the door that my friend Sarah and I made a few years ago to look outside my room without having to open the door. It was too dark to see anything at all. I heard the noise again. I ran as fast as I could toward the enormous brown door at the end of the hallway, which lead to my parents’ room.

I was wearing fuzzy Christmas socks that my daddy gave to me on Christmas the year before. My mom didn’t want me to roam around the house with them; she was afraid I would slip on the slick underside.

When I finally got to the door, I tried to open it slowly so to not make any sound. The first thing I saw was my parents’ huge white bed. Then I noticed that the bathroom door was closed. Usually, my mom would leave it open.

I could smell my dad’s cologne. I hated it. It had one of those weird smells you could never forget. It was really strong, and if you smelled it, everything you smelled after it would smell just like that cologne. That’s when I saw it: the frame with the picture of my parents’ marriage was on the floor right next to the carpet. Broken glass was all over the place; some were covered in blood. Drops were falling down small pieces of glass onto the carpet. I remember thinking about how angry my mom would be when she saw the stain. It was her favorite carpet.

It was the first time I’d seen more than three drops of blood at once. I didn’t even know if it was real blood. I remember thinking about Halloween three years before. My mom had dressed me as a dead bride and covered me in fake blood.

I kept looking at it. I couldn’t move. I realized I wasn’t breathing. I wanted to know more. I heard something. I listened closely. After a while, I started hearing weird noises near me. They came from the bathroom.

I walked toward it as slow as I could. I was so scared. I couldn’t open the door. I was too scared. I decided to count to three.

One…

Two…

Three.

I opened the door as fast as I could to get it over with. I shouldn’t have done it. I saw something I will never forget—Lauren, my mother, was curled up on the floor, sobbing. I bent my knees to lower myself and just stared at her. Before I knew it, I was crying too. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t stop.

She looked up. Mixed words came out of her mouth that I couldn’t understand.

Mommy, don’t cry, I tried to be as quiet as possible.

Please… Just leave. She begged as her voice cracked.

I don’t want to.

Julia, please. Go play outside.

What’s going on, Mommy?

Everything’s alright, sweetheart, she said while wiping her eyes with her right hand. She stood up and hugged me. We never spoke about it again.

I Miss You

Sometimes, I find myself thinking about him. Does he regret anything? Does he miss me? Does he have a new family? Is he happy? I can’t help but wonder if he’s alright, where he is, how he’s doing.

Some mornings, I wake up feeling empty inside. Feeling lonely. It’s an overwhelming feeling of desolation that makes me nauseous. I’d have breakfast, say goodbye to my mother, and start another slow and tedious day. Before he left, we would go for a walk in the morning on Saturdays. We would try to catch butterflies, and he would jog while I played in the park with Mom. We would walk back home together, and then we would get ice cream. I can still smell the french vanilla and hear his soft voice telling me to wash my hands and to say thank you.

It’s weird, isn’t it? How much things can change in a matter of years, sometimes even months or days. A car crash can bring death in a second; a birth can bring joy in a couple of hours. But life—life hits you right in the face with changing moments, and it’s almost impossible to guess what will happen next.

If anyone asked me if I miss him, I would simply shake my head. I would say no. I would scream no. Actually, I might just pretend that I don’t care, hold my breath. I’ve gotten good at it too.

Well, the truth is that I miss him more than anything. I miss the family I used to have. I try to be strong for my mom and Allan, but I know that we’re never gonna be that family again, and I can’t help but wonder why we can’t move on.

It’s been eleven years since my father left, and I still feel the same. Maybe I should let him go. But whenever I think I’m over it, something crushing, crippling, something big enough to bring me back to the bitterness of it all, anything, happens.

Four years ago, on my brother’s birthday, I was looking through my mom’s drawers, trying to find her necklace. She had asked me to get it for her so that she could get ready faster. She was in the bathroom fixing her hair with these small bobby pins that kept falling on the floor, I remember she kept shaking and looking around as if something was troubling her. I looked through every drawer, but I couldn’t find it, so I opened the small drawer my mom never let me open. Maybe it was there, but