Chapter 0 - The First Year of My Life
Submitted March 23, 2013 Updated March 23, 2013 Status Incomplete | I'm dead. I've died with so much on my mind. I guess I can tell you. You won't hurt me. I've already paid the worst price. But if you want to, I will tell you my life story. Secrets I couldn't tell you. If I were alive. But, who am I? My name is Jesse.
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Chapter 0 - The First Year of My Life
Chapter 0 - The First Year of My Life
Where do I begin? Maybe with my birth. With the last minute flashbacks when you die, you see things so clearly.
Yeah, that sounds like a good place to start.
I was small then. A healthy baby, they all said. Healthy weight, healthy height. I was perfect, except for one thing.
My parents didn't want me.
"No, she can't be mine," my mother, Christa, said. "Too chubby. You must have switched her with someone else's. I don't want them to have their child lost like mine is. I'm so sorry."
The doctor looked at her like she was high. I wouldn't be surprised. "No, ma'am. This is your child. And she isn't too chubby. She's exactly right."
"Oh, well then," Christa exclaimed. "Why don't we just take all the 'exactly right' children!"
"Christa, please," my father, Jake, said. "Just let the doctor do his work and-"
Christa glared at Jake. "Please, dearest. Quiet down. Your constant babbling gives me a headache."
"Sorry, dear," Jake mumbled.
And if that was just my first few moments, think about the rest of the year. The next few years.
You have a good image in your mind.
Good.
Half way through the year, I started laughing. I found everything funny then. Christa said that my constant laughing "gave her a splitting head-ache, doll."
That just made me laugh harder. The harder I laughed, the more agitated she got until she smacked me. It never really hurt, but it shocked me into crying. After that, it was up to Jake to stop my crying. It worked, and he became my true parent then. No matter how many times he sucked up to Christa, he was my shelter. The strong man when I was weak. And, as I learned later, I would never have a man like that again.
Yeah, that sounds like a good place to start.
I was small then. A healthy baby, they all said. Healthy weight, healthy height. I was perfect, except for one thing.
My parents didn't want me.
"No, she can't be mine," my mother, Christa, said. "Too chubby. You must have switched her with someone else's. I don't want them to have their child lost like mine is. I'm so sorry."
The doctor looked at her like she was high. I wouldn't be surprised. "No, ma'am. This is your child. And she isn't too chubby. She's exactly right."
"Oh, well then," Christa exclaimed. "Why don't we just take all the 'exactly right' children!"
"Christa, please," my father, Jake, said. "Just let the doctor do his work and-"
Christa glared at Jake. "Please, dearest. Quiet down. Your constant babbling gives me a headache."
"Sorry, dear," Jake mumbled.
And if that was just my first few moments, think about the rest of the year. The next few years.
You have a good image in your mind.
Good.
Half way through the year, I started laughing. I found everything funny then. Christa said that my constant laughing "gave her a splitting head-ache, doll."
That just made me laugh harder. The harder I laughed, the more agitated she got until she smacked me. It never really hurt, but it shocked me into crying. After that, it was up to Jake to stop my crying. It worked, and he became my true parent then. No matter how many times he sucked up to Christa, he was my shelter. The strong man when I was weak. And, as I learned later, I would never have a man like that again.
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