My family begins and ends with my father, who raised me, who took care of me, who was my support. My mother left the family after I was born, and my father did not want to remarry, he was afraid of losing his beloved one again, probably. Luck was not always on my father’s side, and I always wanted to grow up as soon as possible to support my father in everything, like a real man.
Due to the financial situation in the family, I found a job already at the age of 15. I wrote articles for local newspapers, and after 3 years I got a better job. After a couple of years, I came across a vacancy in one office, thanks to which I could already live on my own and provide for myself and my father. One day, my father called me to him – he had a serious conversation, as he said. I started to worry a bit, to be honest. In the living room, a woman was waiting for me, who, according to my father, was my mother.
When she saw me, she burst into tears, started to apologize and rushed to hug me, but I didn’t even want to see her. I unhooked her from my neck and left without further ado, leaving the elderly people alone. Let the father do as he sees fit. I am not going to forgive the person who so meanly left my father with me, and all this time, at least once, on my birthday, did not congratulate me.
