What the ?!?

When I started writing FSOG fanfiction, I knew that I was taking a chance by putting myself out there. I didn’t expect everyone to love what I wrote, but I also didn’t take into account how harsh some would be. Unfortunately, I’ve come across a few who never fail to leave negative reviews. Does it hurt?  I’d be lying if I said no. As much as I try to ignore it and not let it get to me, it does. The thing is, I’m a firm believer in if you don’t like something, don’t read it. If a story is so boring and not well written, why continue to read it?  The answer I’ve realized, some people are simply spiteful and take joy in being such a way. Writing is something I like to do, and I’m going to do it.  I write to express myself and as a sort of therapy. The trolls may leave a scratch with their words, but I see them as battle wounds that only give me the strength to keep chugging along.

Fixing You, Fixing Me

Have you ever felt like you weren’t good enough, even for those who are supposed to love you no matter what?  No?  Consider yourself lucky.  My name is Cassie Daniels, and I long to be loved for who I am.  Hell, I just want to be accepted, but that hasn’t happened once in my twenty- two years of existence.  The tide really started turning on a warm May day when I was five.  I was outside enjoying the warmth of the sun and the feel of grass underneath my feet.  I remember thinking to myself, “This is a really nice day.”, but that ended at the sound of the yelling coming from the inside of my colonial style house.  My parents, Richard and Maggie always fought.  It was what they did best, but they always made up.  That didn’t happen that day.  As the sounds of their voices grew more and more intense, my stomach turned in knots.

The sound of the patio door sliding open threw my eyes to the house. Standing before me with a suitcase in his hand and a blank face was my dad. He stood there for several minutes in silence as if he wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t escape his mouth. Finally, his mouth opened, but I wished that he would have remained speechless.

“Cassie, Daddy is going on a trip, but I’ll see you soon. Ok baby girl?”, he asked tenderly, bending down on his knees in front of me. Even at my early age, I knew that there was more to his “trip.” “I’ll call you when I get where I’m going.” As I stood there looking at my dad, my mother came into view. Her face was tear streaked and cold. I cold see anger and hostility in her eyes. My mother had never been the typical loving mother, but she seemed so much different that day.

“I’m going to miss you Daddy.”, I managed to say. His green eyes closed at my words. For a split second, I thought he was going to change his mind and stay, but he didn’t. Instead, he kissed me on my right cheek and stood. I didn’t know in that moment that was going to be the last show of affection I would receive from my dad. Looking back, that was the last real display of affection that I’ve experienced. Without saying a word to my mother, my dad walked around the side of the house and to his waiting car. His arms tossed his suitcase into the backseat.

“I love you Cassie.”

“I love you too Daddy.”, I replied. My mother still didn’t say anything as he slid into the driver’s side of his Mustang. Slowly, he began to back out of the drive before disappearing from my vision and my life.

“All right Cassie, let’s go inside and get dinner ready.”, my mother said. I stood there motionless until tears began flowing freely. I wanted her to say that it was going to be ok and that he would be back, but she didn’t say that. Instead, I could feel a chill as she said, “Stop crying. You look like a baby.”

That day was the beginning of the end my life as I knew it. If you think that day was bad, stay tuned because it was just the tip of the iceberg.