We all have that one friend that seems to just be having an 'off day' more than once. In my case, I'm that friend and I'm here to share my stories with you, the readers. **Please keep in mind that while my stories and experiences are real, I have changed names and some things around.** *also. Some stories, you may find graphic or vulgar. If so, simply stop reading. This is personal and true. So please, if I, the writer become too emotionally distraught, understand that I may skip over the emotional piece and continue to another story.** The Unlucky One Chapter One: The Good Life Being young has been the best thing to experience, growing up in the 90's I got to experience the things I loved that most kids don't even know about. I, Paige was born April 16, 1993 to my mom, dad and older sister, Ashlynn. I was born with light brunette hair and with a genetic eye mutation, my eyes are so light green they almost look grey with a brown circle going around the middle, they also change to a dark blue in summer and winter. I had what most kids called the "suburb life," my dad is an neurologist, my mother who was an architect is now working in a senior center. My home was located on a hill next to the golf course. Swiss Pine Lake, sounds fancy, huh? Most of the houses occupied are a tourists summer home. The rest are vacant and for sale around the 100,000 dollar mark. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to brag, we were lucky to get ours for 250,000 dollars. Want the view of the golf course, with the main road out in the distance? That'll bump you up to 800,000 dollars. Having an older sister has its ups and downs, like any normal sibling life. Being the younger one, I was the mean one, I remember one year, I was five and my sister was nine. I stole my sisters Barbie, ripped off the head and gave the headless doll to the Great Dane, Zeus. On top of that, hit my sister with my sliced turkey on my sandwich. Growing up, I spent most of my time with dad, almost always with him. My dad and I have a special connection I didn't get with mom, so I became a daddy's girl while my sister was a mommy's girl. Being seven up to nine years-old I became fascinated with my dads Dodge Ram 4x4 truck in emerald green with a muffler. I loved the loud noise it had, the back seat and riding in the bed with mom. More importantly, riding in the front seat helping dad shift gears, listening to Lifehouse- Hanging By A Moment, P.O.D- Youth Of the Nation and Korn- Coming Undone while he played drums on my leg. I was in this fascination up until I was ten when things came to a screeching halt. Why? Dad and my mother got into a heated argument and dad walked out. I remember this day, like yesterday. Taking one last look in my eyes, he hugged me tight, kissed my head and whispered, "you'll always be my lil' pai-pai, remember that Nickelback song, that's my song to you." My eyes teared up as I pressed my face to the screen door waiting three hours for him to come back. The separation was both hard on momma and I, my sister was too busy with high school to pay attention but her attitude was different. As the days, weeks and years went on I learned to live without dad but there wasn't a day I didn't think of him. I have a picture of him on my desk where I done school work that I look at everyday. My eleventh birthday rolled around and I received a phone call from dad. Happy to hear from him, my eyes welled up, he told me he was coming to show me his new house and to pack a bag of a weeks worth of clothes. Excited, I hung up the phone, made a wish that dad would come, and blew out the candles. I rushed to pack my bag, packing everything that came into sight and even put on my white knee length with pink flowers and a bow in the back Sunday dress, white tights and black patent buckle shoes on to wait for dad. I sat pig-tail braided with my stuffed pig in my lap from the zoo trip when I was a baby. Disappointment spread across my face when hours later, I was still on the couch waiting. Mom took me upstairs to take down my hair and get me ready for bed, not knowing what to do or say, mom simply told me, "I'm sorry, honey. Dads a busy man." I grabbed my stuffed pig tight, "but dad always kept a promise, he never forgets me," I closed my door, laying in bed until sleep took over. With my feelings crushed I moped around the house all day in my pajamas and didn't feel like doing anything. I sat in dads Lazy Boy navy blue recliner with my fleece blanket and stuffed pig, watching cartoons. The smell of dad, cigars and his musky cologne lingered and filled my nose, I inhaled deep, picturing him holding me in his chair while we watched Lady and the Tramp, my favorite movie.
Chapter Two: Moving On As time grew, I grew as well. I never forgot about dad, all of our memories were still stuck in my head. I had become accustom to living without my dad, mom had her days here and there. By the age of fifteen I started gymnastics, something I loved. I always admired the gymnasts on television. Though I couldn't make it to the Olympics, I didn't let it stop me from still joining the sport. With dad gone and my mom working during the night and sleeping in the day time I started learning how to care for myself. I didn't have much of a social life, I had one best friend, Skylar. She was like the sister I had wanted. I wasn't in any cliques, but made do with the acquaintances I made in my sports; winter sports cheerleading, softball and volleyball. By now I was seventeen, attending high school, doing gymnastics and working at the mall, Abercrombie and Fitch. I worked mostly on weekends, early releases and a few holidays. Though I had a relatively open schedule I always felt busy. I came home from school, done homework, washed the dishes, loaded and started the dishwasher, done laundry, dusted, vacuumed, mopped the kitchen and bathroom, cleaned the toilet and shower, practiced my gymnastics stretching, took a shower and went to bed. I didn't do all of these everyday, however, I done a majority only when they really needed it. I was always in bed by eleven and no later. My older sister moved out and that was the last we would hear from her, so I thought. She married her first guy at 20, had a baby and got pretty hard into drugs, cocaine mostly. She divorced him, her husband had enough sense to cut her off from spending his money to supply her addiction so she got mad. Splitting custody with their first born daughter she moved to Durham and met another guy, married had a boy and a few years later had another boy. Keeping score? That's one daughter, Dacia from the previous marriage, first boy Dylan and the last boy, Gavin. I met all three a few times but Gavin was the sweetest. I turned eighteen and that's when things began escalating dramatically. My whole world turned upside down.
Had Internet trouble past few days with a terrible storm. After this post, if I get any feedback, I have two more updates ready. Enjoy! ------------- Chapter Three: Rough Life Once I turned eighteen I didn't realize that soon my life would spiral out of control. A few weeks after my birthday, (now if you're one to count things, my birthday is April.) I learned my friend Paige had started getting into meth and had begun selling her body to supply for the drug. For me this was hard to deal with, she is my best friend since Pre-K and also a cousin. What made it harder? She has a daughter. Around the time I found out this information, her and I had quit contacting each other months before I knew all this. I have now lost all contact with her and don't even know where she is. A month after that, (May to be exact.) Skylar showed up to my new work at Hollister to take maternity leave, she told me she was dating my last ex, (I've only had two boyfriends and she took the last one.) I was furious at her, how could she do me like that? We hadn't been broken up long, about a month or so, I know he's just an ex and to me, I considered him a stranger after we broke up, had she not heard of the girl code? The last thing I told her, "Sky, he's going to do you how he done me. He hasn't changed, can't change and don't want to. Don't come to me when he does because this is YOUR warning, he may love YOU but he don't care about YOU. Congrats on the baby you'll be taking care of." It was five months into Skylar's pregnancy that my friend Kristen calls me crying about making a mistake. She had got drunk at a party, made out and eventually lost her virginity to Skylar's now boyfriend and fears she may be pregnant by him. Obviously these two are big idiots for falling for this bad boy type. Reassuring her that it would be okay, I told her to wait before she took a test. Though, I was mad at her for doing that to Skylar and even though I was mad at her, I had to look past my indifferences towards Sky, her boyfriend and Kristen to focus on this major situation these two girls desperately seeked advice for. Two weeks later Kristen calls back, a test from the doctor and six home pregnancy tests confirmed that Skylar wouldn't be the only baby momma. Little did I know that this was only the beginning for my spiraling life and knew what trouble I'd be getting myself into. After dealing with Kristen and her dilemma, Kristen had confided in me that he had told her (Kristen) that he was single and really liked her. See, I know he's trouble! Does anybody listen to me? No. Once I had told Kristen that he definitely wasn't single and that Skylar is soon to have his first child, she immediately broke down even worse than when she found out she was pregnant. I felt sorry for her, I really did, Kristen is like the motherly friend, she may annoy you with the, "slow downs," "don't do this," but she's still fun to be around. She was definitely the last person I would guess or even assume to be in this situation. Weeks went by and I was ready to be done with drama, I was sick and tired of it, but I couldn't put it behind my head, Kristen had to tell Skylar about what happened. Like the push-over I am I tagged along with Kristen for support and security because lord knows, two moody pregnant girls can be dangerous. I'm not one to deal well with altercations between people I care about, it tears me up thinking something bad is going to happen and I break down in tears. But I knew this needed to be handled before things could get any worse. Skylar agreed to meet at Walmart, (she was going there anyways and we were already close by), though Skylar and I weren't on talking terms I contacted her about meeting since Kristen didn't know her. I'll admit I was scared, tension being on the fact I was still furious at Skylar and this friendship between my good friends and I was thrown away. We pulled up beside Skylar's car, looking at Kristen who was a nervous wreck was still ready talk to her. Skylar was first to exit her car followed by us, of course the usual girl smack talk, "you whore, you slept with my man," occurred. I personally didn't understand this smack talk, I was one to just start throwing punches. Kristen assured Skylar she didn't know and that he had told her he was single and liked Kristen. How did that end? Skylar breaking up with him and her and Kristen, not friends. I went home that night, to lay in bed and cry. It was the only thing I knew to do, but, with all the crying it led to more sadness. I began thinking of dad and what he always told me when I was sad, "you're a tough girl, tougher than a lot but you show your emotions well, though you hide them. You're my Pai-Pai, you know what's best for you, you always have. When you need to cry, cry and I'll always be with you." I cried myself to sleep that night. I was miserable the next morning, eyes glazed and red, my head hurting. I finally had reached enough energy to check on my page, a website I had joined back in January, I had been talking to a guy in Ohio, Demontae. We were pretty close, began talking in mid April, today I was giving him my phone number. After I sent the message to Demontae I laid down on the couch with my Malti-Poo, Diva. A moment later, my phone buzzed, a message from Demontae saying who it was followed by a "WYD cutie," I blushed happily. I was messaging Demontae all day until he asked for a picture, I asked for one in return. I sent mine first and a few minutes later revived a "beautiful," followed by his picture. I giggled when my phone said I had a multimedia image, I opened it up and fell in love. "Handsome," I replied back. I was finally happy, not only with myself but the fact that someone like Demontae could make me forget about everything going on with Skylar, Kristen and I. As the days went by Demontae and I messaged from the time we woke until we went to bed, I grew a crush on him. He made me happy, he joked with me, I listened to him and he did he the same, he was funny and so amazingly sweet. I didn't tell Demontae about my ongoing drama with Skylar and Kristen. I thought it was best to keep him out of it, he didn't need to know and it was best for him to stay away. Though he could tell something was wrong with the tone of my voice and may have sounded down, I didn't want to tell him so I passed it off as my mom being home and may hear me. I began calling Demontae, "Pookie," his new nickname I gave him and with that, he called me "Bookie." It made me giggle to hear him say it on the phone and I blushed a few times. I started questioning why he'd even talk to a girl like me, I was definitely out of his league. He was a pretty boy and I'm just a clumsy, 5"2' athletic nerd. June 22, a day I'll never forget. That night Demontae called like always around the time mom left for work, ten o'clock. I noticed he sounded a bit uneasy or nervous, when I asked what was wrong he said, "like you," something we said to take place of the "love you." We talked a few minutes about liking each other and how I wanted him to ask me out. After encouraging Demontae, eleven thirty of June 22, I Paige went from single to in a relationship, I was the happiest girl in the world. Days went by before I was able to tell my mother the good news and show her who I had been talking to. I was excited for her to see him to see what she thought.
Chapter Four: A Good Start to A Bad End Showing my mother the conversations Demontae and I had and a picture of him, she said she liked him so far and would like to meet him. I told Demontae and in his nervous voice that I thought was adorable said, "oh man." A few more weeks and Demontae called, I was eager to tell him that I loved him but was too nervous. I told him about why I was acting shy on the phone and he replied, "Paige, you been having me wanting to say it," I blushed. Before he had to go I nervously said, "Demontae, I love you," he said it back and I almost burst into tears of joy. I was happy that I had found a good guy, I finally had a guy that was amazing and so handsome, I just couldn't feel like I could get any luckier. A few months later, around August, Demontae and I had become best friends as well as a couple. He told his close friends and his mom, all giving him the approval. Now that his friends knew they always shouted, "hey, Paige!" When he was over there on the phone. Mid-September is when I would be getting a wake up call to a dramatic outcome. Little did I know back then that it would put me in the hospital and again that coming year (2013).
Chapter Five: Blind Sided September of 2012, a month I'll never forget. It was a Friday night, mom was working and I had just gotten off the phone with Demontae. My friend Jacey came over unexpected to ask if I wanted to go to McDonald's and catch up. I agreed to go and threw on some clothes and hopped in. When we pulled up I noticed three girls from high school, I never talked to them or about them but I didn't much care for them. I paid them no attention as I walked in with Jacey, I ordered mine first since Jacey was still deciding. I took my tray asking her where she wanted to sit and took a seat at the booth nearby. I began eating once Jacey had started walking over and we instantly began talking and catching up. I got up to throw away my trash and use the restroom. I walked in, seen in the mirror the back of my shirt was messed up and once I pulled it down I was thrown against the wall next to the hand dryer. I fell down and tried hiding my face with my arms, it didn't work, two of the three girls held me down while the other wailed on me. Taking turns on me I couldn't fight back, not even physically, these girls are 5"6' to 5"7' and heavier than me. I'm 5"2' and only 110 pounds, I had nothing on them. The attack went on a little over thirty minutes before anyone came in. I lay in the floor, unconscious, blacked out and severely beaten. Police called on the scene escorted Jacey and her three friends while the other policeman got my phone to phone my mother. I remember waking up in a small pool of my blood, I was lifted into the back of an ambulance right at the time my mother pulled in. Getting into the back with me, I remember faintly seeing her balling in tears and screaming, "MY BABY! That can't be her! That does not look like my baby!" All I could think of was, "did I look that bad? Why was mom denying me? I'm Paige!" My body was in pain while I laid in the hospital bed. I couldn't move my leg or arm, broken. If you asked me to rate the pain, it broke the meter, throbbing, sore and sharp pain. I could only see blurred vision in my right eye, but I could tell my mom was still here. I couldn't open my mouth to tell her I needed my phone, I had to call Demontae but my my right jaw was in so much pain. I wrote on a napkin for mom to hand me my phone and she passed it over, I sent a message to him explaining what went on and snapped a picture of my face and leg. He messaged me back shortly after furious at what they had done, asking what all was wrong and what had happened. "Stop babe, that makes me mad as hell tho, you'll be okay, I promise. If you want I can call and talk and you can say as much as you can. If you just wanna hear my voice." I cried reading it and immediately called, "hey beautiful," he said calming. I couldn't open my mouth but tried humming a hey back. "Try not to think about it, babe. It'll be okay, I promise hand on my heart. I just wish I could be there with you. That makes me mad as hell! They're gonna get theirs, I promise." I cried, I so desperately wanted him to walk in my room, smile at me, say "hey, beautiful," sit in the recliner next to my bed and hold my hand. I wanted him so bad and it made me angry that I couldn't tell him what I wanted. "Don't cry, bookie. I'll text you all day while you're at the hospital, okay? I won't go no where. You got me to yourself." I wanted to scream and cry in happiness and pain, but couldn't and holding in everything I wanted to say was bottling up anger. "I'm gonna go, beautiful. Text me but try to get some sleep. I love you, bookie." I hummed the sounds of "I love you too," back to him and he kissed me through the phone. I immediately messaged him, "I love you, Pookie." The nurse walked in to give my mom and I an overview of all my injuries, a broken leg, broken arm, hip fracture, jaw and bite out of alignment (my teeth went over to the left) , concussion, blurred vision along with black and swollen eye, contusion on left leg, broken nose, cramping sensation of lower abdomen and a busted lip. "She'll need several surgeries and some X-rays. Good news is, we can get her most of them Monday. Her doctor is worried and wants to get her in as soon as possible." Mom stopped crying, relieved slightly that I would be on a quicker road to recovery, "worried about what?" She questioned anxious. "Her doctor says it's the worst case of an attack that he's ever encountered, he wants to start now in fear that if she waits it may get worse." My mom, for the first time in my eighteen years I had been born was frightened to death. I had never seen her like this before. Did I want this to be over? Yes. Did I want to crawl in a hole, forgetting everyone? Yes. Was I ashamed, afraid, embarrassed, vulnerable? Yes. Did I want to give up? Yes. Did I give up? No. I had my mother, boyfriend and gymnastics coach supporting and motivating me every step while I was in the hospital. Do I look up to them? Most definitely. If it wasn't for them, I would've asked for life support, pushed everyone away and hoped for death. Though there were times I thought of that and wanted it to happen I didn't let it. I knew I had to get better so I could plan to see Demontae and him see me, go back to work, start back a gymnastics and see my mom happy again. I knew I had a good life, I knew I had people that care about me and love me. I couldn't let them down so I forced myself every day to push as much as I could at getting better. With casts on my leg and arm, I felt like a human target to be laughed at. My jaw in a support brace and a rubber like set to cover my bottom teeth to help ease the pain of biting, I felt better. My eye vision still blurry managed to set me back, as well as my hip. Mom was also furious and demanded lawyers. Calling every lawyer business she could find in the Yellow Pages. The DA (district attorney) wanted to speak with me as soon as possible, after hearing my mom tell what happened that she knew of. With the severity of my injuries the DA wanted a quick court date, to help with evidence, however we could only get in at the end of the month. It was close, but not close enough for my mother and the DA. Jacey was looking at five to ten years for conspiracy and accomplice. The three girls, twenty to twenty-five for false imprisonment, battery of third degree and assault. All I had to do was testify and tell the jury what happened, tell them how I'm managing my pain and about my injuries.
Chapter Six: Dealing With my surgeries all completed I was beginning to start getting used to walking after my hip surgery. Learning to walk with a cast, stitches and a hip surgery was difficult for me. I attended water aerobics to help with my muscles and did it everyday in my pool after when I finally went home. I could talk, say my words like before but had to pronounce them slowly. Talking took a lot out of me, I had to stop and rest if I was speaking a lot. Phone calls to Demontae still resumed even with my brace on, he was the last person I would let lose contact with me. I love him far too much to see him walk out of my life, the impact that would have on me, thinking and imaging a day that Demontae left me, made me almost heartbroken and depressed. Days went by and I realized it hit me, I'm in love, in love with Demontae. I love him more than my life itself, more than words, movies, books or love songs can describe. Demontae is THE one for me, I'm marrying this guy. The trial of my case was in the morning, with everything running in my head I couldn't find the time to go to sleep, even with my medication.
Chapter Six: Dealing With my surgeries all completed I was beginning to start getting used to walking after my hip surgery. Learning to walk with a cast, stitches and a hip surgery was difficult for me. I attended water aerobics to help with my muscles and did it everyday in my pool after when I finally went home. I could talk, say my words like before but had to pronounce them slowly. Talking took a lot out of me, I had to stop and rest if I was speaking a lot. Phone calls to Demontae still resumed even with my brace on, he was the last person I would let lose contact with me. I love him far too much to see him walk out of my life, the impact that would have on me, thinking and imaging a day that Demontae left me, made me almost heartbroken and depressed. Days went by and I realized it hit me, I'm in love, in love with Demontae. I love him more than my life itself, more than words, movies, books or love songs can describe. Demontae is THE one for me, I'm marrying this guy. The trial of my case was in the morning, with everything running in my head I couldn't find the time to go to sleep, even with my medication.