i knew it was over

I knew it was a mistake the moment it was over. It was too late daddy was gone as I sit there weeping in front of his coffin my blouse covered with tears. My side of the funeral room seats were almost empty, but I knew the people there on my side were real people unlike the fake personalities on my step moms side. We had never had a great relationship. Well actually, to say we never had a great relationship was an understatement. We hated each other… I always knew deep down inside we did but that feeling was made prominent the day after he passed away and we sat there planning his funeral and me begging her with tears flowing everywhere to not have his funeral the day of my 20th birthday. The date was set. This was the day that confirmed the one thing I always promised myself, that I would never hate anyone.
That hate started when I was about 13. I will never forget the day that I was caught French kissing my current boyfriend in the middle of the grassy circle we had in front of the buses. The teacher quickly grabbed me up and drug me to the office. Immediately my step mom the devil I liked to call her, was on her way. I knew I would have to feel the wrath of the red curly haired devil that afternoon. I sat scared but yet at the same time I was going to stand my ground. I was unaware of the events that would follow that event that would affect me in ways I would never dream possible. Daddy was a manager for a body shop at a local big car dealership. So one of the perks of living with daddy was always been driven around in a new demo car which was always the newest and best thing on the market. At the time the red haired devil drove a black sports car with ground effects. She was pretty pissed as she raced up to the school. The devil was really mad that day as she sped up to the front of the school and she hit the dip so hard it completely took off the front of that black sports car. I knew it was over that the devil had been scorned. I approached the car and the devil stood out front … with the front of the car. By the time I got home I was shaking I was so scared. Then the phone rang. I couldn’t hear the conversation I was cowardly hiding in my room. I heard the phone slam down I knew it wasn’t good. It was the boys mom I had been caught making out with at school. His mom had went through his book bag and found a few notes I had written him. Well, they were more like a steamy romance novel than a 13 year old love note. Suddenly she came bashing through my bedroom door screaming, “Your nothing more than just a little whore! How dare you. His mom is headed over here with the notes. You just wait your ass is grass!” she slammed the door so loud I thought the hinges were going to fall off. I just sat and cried. I wasn’t a whore I was a virgin. Daddy had never been in my life until up in the last year. I didn’t know how to talk to guys. There was a period in my life where I was raped by my best friends dad so I didn’t know how to talk to men and this was almost a cry for help. A cry that was unheard. A cry that I was to find out that would continue for 7 ½ months staring at the same wall. The same wall and room that was to be my punishment from the devil. I knew it was a mistake the moment it was over. Only I was to find it after it was over there would be a new beginning.