All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
A Child's Superhero
Every child has that one person that they look up to. It can be fictional, or even someone in there life. I was just like every other child. But my superhero, or shall I say superheroes, wasn't the same as other kids in my grade. It wasn't Superman, or Sailor Moon, or whoever else there was when I was growing up. Sure I thought these people, or characters, were cool but to me they weren't people you look up to. To me a person that is admired should have a reason to be looked up to. Sure Superman and Sailor Moon saved the world, but where could they have gotten their powers from. Powers shouldn't just be given to people, they should have a reason to be given them. That's why my Grandparents, were my superheroes, and still as I reach my mid twenties I admire them for who they are. And their power is the love that they show all of us, and everyone around them. and without them I don't know what or where I would be.
I was one of the many children from a broken home. Now pretty much every family you look at is broken in some way or another. My Dad was not my Dad. Actually I don't even know who he is. well I could pick him out in a crowd, but i doubt he could tell who I was. We have never met. To me it means nothing. If he had wanted to meet me he could have. Although I doubt I would have.
I think I was four when my Mom had her first boyfriend. Before that there were always her friends around but she was still my Mommy. Not there friend. She was just mine. That probably sounds selfish, but as a little girl that is pretty much all you need. At night when you had bad dreams who did you always call for? Your Mommy. But once she met "him" it all changed. She was no longer my Mom. Well to me it didn't seem like she was.
He had a very irresponsible daughter. An eighteen year old daughter I think. Or something like that. She had a baby girl and left it where her mother worked so she could go party. She just wasn't someone you would want your four year old to be around.
When they moved in with me and my Mom. Into our perfect sized two bedroom apartment, it didn't really feel like I was my Mom's daughter anymore. Just a possession that she could take wherever she wanted. Maybe I was just jealous that it wasn't just me and her anymore. Or maybe because I don't like things to change. Not that big of a change anyways.
Sometimes she would leave me for a month at a time. I would stay at my Grandma's. It was more my home then my actual home. To me it felt like the perfect place to be. Maybe because I wasn't just there sitting around. I think thats why I loved school so much, and why i got so into it. So that I could get away from things, and just once she would notice me and know who I am.
We lived right behind the school. And even though it was only over the hill to get home, she would always there to meet me as soon as the bell rang. I didn't like walking home alone. One day she wasn't there. I was scared that I was all alone. But I felt like something might have happened to her or that maybe she had forgotten about me. I cried. And ended up going home with my cousins. She said that she was there and that I hadn't come. But I was so sure she wasn't there. How could I have not seen her?
At one point when he had been there he moved out. Well more then once. I remember one time my Mom being so upset. So I had pretended to be too, but in my head i was cheering because once again it would just be me and my Mom. That didn't last long. Soon I was being dragged to his place. Well it wasn't exactly his place. It was a little run down hotel room that no longer exists. Even if it was a school night we would stay really late at night and I was only five or six. One night my Grandma had come and got me. I went home with her and my feet were cracking from being frozen. From walking to his place or the auction mart in the snow.
He ended up moving back in, again. I was so sick of it. Sick of him. Of being left with random friends of my Mom's. But I loved being with my Grandma and Grandpa. I was tired of how if I would ask anything that i wanted to know I would get told by him not to ask stupid questions.
I had finally had enough of it, and it was Christmas day. I don't remember much from that day. It was like any normal Christmas day. I went to bed but I didn't want to sleep. It was late so I couldn't go out into the living room. It was bed time. But I was tired of it all. And the only place I had wanted to be was with Grandpa and Grandma. I would be so much happier. I packed up a lot of my stuff. Clothes, toys, presents. All of it onto by red sled. I got into my snow suit and was standing just outside of the apartment. No one had even heard me.
I stood on top of the stairs, my sled dragging behind me. I had to go down two flights of stairs. I couldn't go down. It was so darks and cold out there. I just couldn't do it. i went back inside and into my room. Sitting on my bed cuddling with my baby blanky, staring at all the stuff on top of the bright red sled. I was alone again. I was always alone. There was no one there to give me a hug and tell me everything would be perfectly fine. There was just me and my blanky.
I was sat there for a while when i decided that I was still leaving. even though I wasn't allowed to use the phone and was suppose to be sleeping I still snuck out of my room into my Mom's so I could use the phone. I was pretty sure that they couldn't hear me but I still remained as quiet as i could be. i guess I didn't know what he would do if he knew that I was up and on the phone. I knew in my heart that my Mom wouldn't let him hurt me but at that time in my mind I didn't trust him.
When I got off the phone I was so happy. They were coming to get me and I would no longer be alone. When they go there I could tell my Mom was confused. Here I was standing there with my snow suit on with a sled filled with a lot of my stuff. Ready to go. I really wish I knew what went through her head that night. But I guess I will never know.
I celebrated my Mom's birthday with her when I was eight. It was different then the other times that I had been with them. For one thing he was extremely quiet. And not at all obnoxious. I went home that night and went to bed. The next morning I woke to find my Mom sleeping in the spare bedroom. He had died that night of lung cancer.
A few month's later I decided to have a sleep over. Just me and my Mom. We made supper, played games and all the sort of stuff that we used to do when I was younger, and then one of her friends came over. And maybe I felt that I was in the way, or she just didn't want me there. Maybe I was homesick. But I went home. I couldn't stay there. It didn't feel like we had that huge bond between us like we had before he came.
I began to have a trust issue. It made me really quiet and shy. Especially around people I didn't know. But then my life began to get normal. For now.
You don't realize how much you love someone until you think you might lose them. One night i got home from school and no one was home. But I didn't panic. They always went for walks and sometimes got back late. But then my Aunty came over. She told me to bring some overnight stuff because she didn't know how long Grandma would be in the hospital with Grandpa. She thought he had had a stroke. At that time I didn't really know exactly what that was, or how bad. I just started crying and went with her. He had heat exhaustion. Grandma came and got me and I went home. It felt weird not having Grandpa in the house that night. He was always there. When he came home I felt so much better. i don't know what I would do if I lost either of them.
My sixteenth birthday came and went. But it was just like my Mom's birthday when I was eight. I woke up that morning to find her, once again, in the spare room. Her apartment building had burnt down. So it wasn't exactly tragic, but it did bring me closer to her. And I thought it would have lasted a little longer then what it had. But by the end of summer she was gone. Moved to another town with her boyfriend. The Dad of her ex. The guy that she had been friends with when I was little, when he was dating her friend. We had gone to Jasper with them. I remember that trip. She left me with them to go for a walk and I ran after her. And cut my lip in the process.
She could have stayed those two years that I had left at school and maybe make an effort in getting to know me but she didn't. And I don't think she ever will.
To me my Grandma and Grandpa are more of parents to me then mine will ever be. They know everything about me and I could never keep anything from them. I Love them too much. Without them I have no idea where I would be. And truthfully I don't think I would want to find out. The one thing that I have always wanted to know though is why she never asked me to stay that night standing in the doorway. Or that night I tried to sleepover. Not once did she ask me to come back. Instead she sent all my stuff to my Grandparents. Who will always make everything okay. Just like a superhero.
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.