Machine of Death - Crush - Crush I was six years old when my life was changed before I ever knew what was to become of it I have never been able to

Machine of Death - Crush - Crush I was six years old when...

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CrushI was six years old when my life was changed before I ever knew what was to become ofit. I have never been able to remember a single thing from then, but from all the years that followed, I would continually watch my mom change into something I could only pity. Crippling alcoholism and isolation lead up to severe schizophrenia. She had basically lost her ability to speak properly, but for all I know, she could always have been like this. I don't remember what happened then at all. I started living with my aunt Christa, and as she recollected, my dad died during the construction of some nearby building. I was told he was a lead engineer directing the building’s construction and some debris fell on him. I didn't feel much sympathy.I still went to school. After which, I would usually go to my mom’s house to take care of her. Mom’s neighbours hardly ever walked passed the house as Grumpy would always bark scaring them away. I showed him a lot of love whenever I visited Mom. Going into the house, it would always be dirty, filled with some bizarre odour. Most of the time I would go in, make some food for my mom, and then settle down and do some of my school work. Sometimes she would come and sit next to me for a bit and tell me some stories. I don’t know why she did this, maybe she thought I was still six - though I would try and listen while doing my work. The stories she told me were like fairy tales that a mother would tell her children, or be reenacted in a terrible school play. I always felt that there was something she way trying to tell me through prince charmingand her shaky voice. I would never really pay my full attention, but sometimes I would tune in, and hear her narrating in tears, but I never knew why. Nothing was particularly tear jerking. It was probably just her. School life was as generic as it could be. Boring classes, romantic ideals and freshmen that had a few loose screws. The only thing I really looked forward to in my day was going to mymythology class, since it was the only thing that was really interesting to me. What fascinated me about mythology was the way myths were able to enforce moral teachings through fear overthe encouragement used in fairy tales. Recently we were given a project to read up on and take our own little spin on some type of story in pairs. During my frantic search to get the ‘best’ mythologies before anyone else, I stumbled upon the story of Cassandra. She could speak prophecies, but was cursed so that no one would believe her. For some reason I got a feeling offamiliarity and nostalgia when I skimmed over the premise, so I noted it.What reallymade me like this project was that I was paired with Merissa. She lived somewhat near my mom’s house and went to the same middle school. We’ve been friends for a long time now and we often do school work together. We are really open with each other and talk about our lives quite often. I’ve told her about my mother’s situation, and she has seen her
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