Chapter 2: Childhood Stories
I have lived a fairly normal life and don't really have many amazing things to talk about. My childhood was a blast like the best childhood that you can imagine. I'm not talking about materialistic things like having a 1000 dollar phone at the age of 4 or a toy car that was made by tesla or any other ridiculous thing rich people buy their kids. A nine-year-old kid doesn't need a Ferrari or a yacht. Rich people are just too overkill. I'm not saying that I hate rich people or anything but nevermind let's continue with the story.
My mother was a writer. "Sarah Jones" was her pen name as well as her real name. She used to write amazing stories, poems, blogs, and many articles. People used to call her all the time for writing articles about different things. She was an amazing pianist as well. She used to play the piano so gorgeously that every time she pressed the keys of the piano my body started dancing in the rhythm of her moving fingers, but that was just one of her many hobbies.
My Mom was a person of few words and my dad Jayde Williamson was on the other side of the spectrum. My dad had an amazing personality like he was that kind of guy who was always fun to be with like a total fun maniac. The room in which he stood the spotlight always came his way. All the time he cracked jokes that were certified by the dad's jokes union itself, not that I actually know if something like that exists but you can never be sure.
I already told you once and I will tell you again, he was a technophile or a techie wholeheartedly. There is no downside for having a father who loves tech more than his wife or kids but you do have to share your fatherly love with your home computer, Smart-tv, mixer-grinder, washing machine. Okay, probably not with the washing machine but you get the point.
Kidding aside, I'm sure deep down dad cared more about me and my mom but I didn't realize that until my mom was taken away from me by an Ischaemic heart disease when I was about 7 years old.
I can tell you a lot about Ischaemic heart disease because I searched it a hell lot of times on google but I won't bore you with medical knowledge and it also reminds me of mom and that makes me sad.
I think that I was old enough to understand the concept of death at that time but still, I remember dad's simplified version of that "Mom went on a vacation to meet god and she got held up as God wanted her to do something important." I didn't understand what almighty God could possibly want from my mom when he could do anything himself with the flick of a finger but I was too little to question the working of God.
Dad did hit a rock bottom after mom's death but a few weeks after the funeral he came around and the fun dad was revived. But this time his health bar was only half-healed. He still made me laugh with his jokes and with the fancy meals that he used to cook for me. No kidding, he baked a cake in the shape of a computer and even coated it with frosting of different colors. There was a baked keyboard as well which was ruined by me when I tried to type on it and on the screen he wrote a code
print("Happy birthday Dexter").
It was my 8th birthday, the first birthday without Mom.
For a Dad, his cooking was quite good but something was always missing. I used to point out many times that the food didn't taste like what mom used to make. It must be hard for a single dad to raise a child who would constantly bring his mom into conversations. I wasn't turning out as a great student since my grade took a hit and they went down fast. I also got bullied when I was 10 and my class bully used to take my lunch money. My Dad used to do work late at night and in the morning was not able to make and pack lunch for me so instead he would give me money to buy something at the school.
I was bullied for about six months and my lunch was often snatched. I couldn't tell dad or anyone else because if I did I would get a beating.
"Your dad is probably busy in the office and your mommy is dead, who are you gonna call for help", these were the words that I heard the first time I got bullied and these words still make me uneasy and I can never forget that squeaky voice of Dan who used to bully me.
Dad was not able to notice the subtle shift in my behavior but one of my teachers did. Still, it took her long enough. I was interrogated by her and I was in tears when I told my homeroom teacher what had been happening for the past six months. My dad and Dan's mother came to the meeting that my teacher called on the matter of me getting bullied. Dan refused the fact that he bullied me and said " Dexter used to threaten me to become his brag shuttle and when I fought back he went to the teacher saying I bullied him, he is a liar he lies all the time". The whole thing backfired as Dan's Mom started shouting at the teacher about not caring about the students and my dad for not being able to raise a kid properly.
"I am a single father and I do whatever I can to take care of my son. I have done a better job than you did raising a brat like yours," said dad.
Dan's mother replied in the harshest tone ever."Don't you dare raise your voice on me just because I am a woman. I can clearly see from where that boy has got his manners. Of course, a child without a mother would turn out like that if he lives with a man like you".
Dan's father had good relations with the principal of the school and Dan's mother started threatening my teacher that she would get her fired and that she will report my dad and many more things. The worst part was that I was not able to prove my innocence because dan's friends took his side and I had no friend that could defend me and tell the truth.
I had to change schools and went to a different school which was a little far from my previous school. It was also an expensive school. Mostly rich people of the neighborhood used to send their kids to that school. I didn't have problems as no one bullied me or anything but I hardly made any friends.
Students at my new school were not friendly at all, they were just a bunch of savages and retards who were selfish and didn't care about anyone else's feelings. Maybe their behavior came from their rich households. Little by little, I was becoming one of them and my dad didn't like my new behavior.
Dad and I started arguing a lot. He would always say "money doesn't rain from the sky" or "money doesn't grow on trees" whenever I demanded more than my pocket money. This used to annoy me a lot because a 12 year old gotta do what a 12 year gotta do which is wasting money on stupid things and toys. RC cars were in fame back in the days. I couldn't do a lot to show my anger. All I did was locking myself in my room without eating anything and dad would agree to my terms every time.
But as time went by my demands became more infuriating to him and arguing every day became a new norm. The atmosphere of the house was filled with anger and discontentment and it became hard to even breathe properly.
And maybe that was the reason why he got remarried five years after my mom died.
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