"Sorry dad. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough back then and even more right now, dad," I cried out as I have been kneeling in front of his grave for so long that I forgotten what time was it.
It was a clear night with a full moon up in the sky as it shines the lonesome landscape of the cemetery I was currently in. Not a single other soul was there. It was just me, my father's grave and other deceased soldiers.
I know I shouldn't be out alone considering I'm a woman and all but I really needed to see dad again, even if it was nighttime. Plus I have years of experienced martial arts thanks to my encouraging father and the Air Force so I know how to win in a fight if someone messes with me.
"I just gotten back the other day, father, from duty, but this still hurts even to this day..." I said while sobbing there. I have been with the Air Force since I was 18 years old, the year after my dad got killed in combat. Now, I'm 30 years now and the day I got the devastating news 13 years ago still haunts me to this day. I remember like it was yesterday...
Over the years, I had an Army father and a stay-at-home mother. The three of us live in Indianapolis for as long as I can remember. Both my parents have loved me and taken such good care of me. However that all changed when I turned 13 years old. For my own mother, Krystal, started abused me, either physically, emotionally and/or mentally. Meanwhile my father, Wyatt, was hardly home for he was always on active duty.
It wasn't until I was 16 years old, that he noticed all of the abuse I endure from my mother. Once he found out, he took me out of that household, called CPS against my mother, and had me stay with my grandma (his mother). I haven't seen my mother since then, which is a good thing because I have so much resentment towards her.
You'll think my father after all of that ordeal would stay for me, but that was not the case. He was called in for active duty. For months upon months, my grandmother and I waited to hear from him, but nothing came in the mail nor a direct call. The day I turned 17 was the same day I received the news: that my own father was killed in combat. My grandmother and I were obviously devastated after hearing the news. Back then, I used to ask myself: "Why him, and not my mother?" It was then I realized that we can't have anything good nor can we rely on anyone.
By the time I was 18 years, I graduated from highschool and enlisted to the Air Force, but only to reserve duty. I won't make the same mistake nor not be there for my family. For the past 13 years, it has just been my grandmother and I. I have been coming and going every so often. Most months I was gone for a week, others I was gone for a couple more. Nice thing is that I wasn't too far from home which is why I chose reserve over active duty.
I consider myself blessed and thankful for my grandmother. Her name is Debra and she has been my rock for as long as I can remember. Mother of one child, she raised my father to the man he was before he got killed. My so-called grandfather Todd didn't give my grandmother nor my father the day and time to visit. He left as soon as he heard that my grandmother was pregnant. The coward! Yet another person who I resent as much as I resent Krystal herself.
Not even my mom's side of the family give me a shoulder to cry on nor reach out to me. It's so sickening that they don't even care about neither of us. So much for extended cousins, aunts, uncles, and even grandparents who you can rely on. They can screw themselves especially since they are Krystal's side. They said that she only got to me because she was alone all the time. If you ask me, she did all the things towards me because she was an attention seeker. And who the hell hurts their kids!? Kids are to be protected and nurtured, not neglect and toss to the side like trash. Not a single one of them attend my dad's funeral. It's how self-righteous they all are; every single one of them. But who needs them? I better on my own along with my dear Grandma Debra who I can always count on.
Ever since CPS was called on her (plus the interviews I had with them while also showing them where the bruises were), Krystal has been in jail. I hope she rots in prison for a long time. She don't deserve to see the light of day after all the things she have said and done to me. Krystal is a monster and anyone who releases her is a complete idiot.
I finally put out my phone from the jeans and find out that my grandma has been calling me nonstop for the past half hour. I texted her right away letting her know that I was on my way. Once it was sent, I give my father a nightly salute, even getting teary eyed once again, and wished him farewell. I even gave him a kiss unto the tombstone before I left the premise.
I pull up to the driveway as I parked my Chevy Malibu right behind my grandma's Volkswagen. Next thing I did was lock up my car and walk up to the house. A house which I stayed in since I lived with my grandma. It was a nice and cozy one story home which contain a picnic fence and tons of garden gnomes from the eye could see. I remember collecting those for my grandma as a kid. Anytime I saw one (even to this day), I had to get it for obviously my grandmother loves them. I then reached up to the front door and bought out my keys. I grabbed the house key, slid into the slot and twist, having the door open for me. I then closed the door and locked it while taking off my shoes.
"Grandma?" I called out looking for her as the house was a lit up at this time of night.
She responds: "I'm in the kitchen, Janet".
I headed to the kitchen where my grandma was sitting there drinking her hot tea. But judging by her face, she looked rather nervous when I arrived there.
"Is something a matter?" I asked with a face of concern.
My grandma takes a deep breath before replying: "It's about your mother. They released her from jail today."
Someone from the courthouse just made an idiotic mistake.