Whenever I tell people how old my parents are they usually end up laughing, assuming that I’m joking or pulling their leg. And when I tell them I’m not, I get the following reaction;
” and then an awkward silence. Everything feels uncomfortable afterwards, like I have to explain
how that happened.
My parents were really young when they had me. Most people would ask themselves; ‘what the hell were they doing having sex at that age? What kind of households were they raised in?’
And well, when you’re a horny, hormonal teenager and not
practising safe sex…pregnancy can happen. No matter what kind of upbringing you were raised in.
Emily Rose Thompson and Noah Mason Hunter welcomed their first child into the world on August 1 st , 1997. They had a beautiful baby girl that had her father’s blue, ocean eyes and a full head of dark brown hair. They named her Aria Sophia Hunter. And that little girl…was me
. For the first four years of my life, I lived with my maternal grandparents. My father came from a very wealthy family and they were against the pregnancy from the moment they found out. They had offered my grandparents lots of money to force my mother to get an abortion, but my grandparents were strict god fearing Catholics, and although they were incredibly disappointed in my mom, they weren’t going to let her abort me. No matter how many added figures the Hunter
family continuously offered them in cheques.
The plan was to give me up for adoption after I was born, but as soon as my grandma held me in her arms, she fell in love with me. My mom and dad signed their parental rights away, and I was raised by my grandparents until I reached my fourth birthday. I rarely ever saw my mom and never saw my dad. Mom was too busy being a rebellious teenager, instead of taking responsibility and properly caring for me. My granny always had to remind me that she wasn’t my mommy, because I had gotten in the habit of calling her
momma all the time.
When my father finally turned eighteen, he separated himself from his family and decided to step up to the plate and marry my mother. But she didn’t want to marry him…because she was already engaged to someone else; my drunken abusive stepdad, Robert. Of course I didn’t know all of this at the time, because I was too young to even understand how the world worked.
My mom, Rob and I ended up moving into a shabby old apartment in New York because she wanted to pursue her dreams in the fashion industry. My stepdad made her all these promises that he never ended up keeping. Mom wound up working in retail and Rob managed to hold down a job as a mechanic at some garage near the rough side of Manhattan. Life was depressing to say the least. I grew up having to take care of my four other half siblings, while mom and Rob constantly fought over money, his drinking, his failed promises and his extreme forms of discipline. I didn’t have a good relationship with my mother or my stepdad to say the least. He pretty much treated me as if I didn’t exist, and whenever I did
get noticed under his radar, it was usually because he was pissed at me for not doing my chores properly. He drilled it into my head that I was a constant fuck up.
I knew nothing of my father. All my life I was raised to believe that he didn’t want me. It wasn’t until two months ago that I discovered the truth. My whole life had drastically changed, and everything I ever knew about the rules of attraction went out the window.Chapter 1
It was a cold and rainy autumn evening as I sat curled up on the living room sofa, wearing two sweat shirts because the radiator was broken. I was freezing, which made it difficult to concentrate on my schoolwork. My siblings were oddly quite because they were glued to the television, watching cartoons. I blew on my hands and rubbed them together to warm up, before I picked up my pen to finish the rest of math homework. That’s when the telephone rang. I was expecting it to be my grams because she usually called every Thursday evening to check up on me and see how I was doing, but it wasn’t her. It was an unfamiliar voice that belonged to a man on the other end of the line, and he was asking to speak with me. When I told him who I was, there was the longest pause before he answered;
Needless to say, I was in shock. Throughout all sixteen years of my life, I grew up believing that my dad never wanted me, that he abandoned me and my mom. It didn’t help that my grandparents always trash talked him and his family. I was in no way shape or form, prepared to have that conversation with him. So I hung up. My heart was racing a mile a minute. Five seconds later, he called back.
“Stop calling me! I don’t want to talk to you or see you! I don’t even know you!” With newfound courage, I told him off before disconnecting again.
I literally couldn’t study anymore. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t do anything
. I needed my mom to get home, and I needed to interrogate her about what was going on and why my father called me up out of the blue. And I did exactly that as soon as she got her foot through the door. She ended up confessing that she felt it was in my best interest to protect me from him and his crazy family. She said that my dad was pretty much a mama’s boy and his mother, Grace Hunter, was a vain and evil woman who was manipulative and got off on destroying lives, which was why my mom wanted nothing to do with that family.
She also said that my dad never pursued getting custody of me throughout the years, which only justified her belief that she made the right decision getting away from him. I still had so many questions, and no way of contacting my dad. I tried to retrace his number, but it was a blocked call. I kept praying he would call again so that I could have a chance to hear his side of the story, but there were no more phone calls. I tried to 411 him, and look him up online, but I had no luck. He didn’t have a Facebook or Twitter; nothing.
It wasn’t until a week later that my mother got served with court papers. Noah was taking her to court to get custody of me. Rob kept encouraging my mom to dump me off
with my dad, because it would be one less mouth to feed. But my mother was conflicted about it because she wanted to do what she
felt was best for me. Regardless, my
thoughts and my
feelings were important to the judge who was going to make the final decision.
It was a gloomy Monday afternoon on November 5 th , 2012 when I came face to face with my father inside New York City Family Court. I swear I didn’t even recognize him. I thought he was the old man with salt and pepper hair who was sitting down next to the young rookie lawyer. They both stood up and looked at me when I walked inside. My father hardly gave me a glance, while his young lawyer just stared at me. He was dressed in a dark grey suit, probably Armani
, and he had short brown hair that looked freshly cut, a masculine square jaw, with the most intense blue eyes I had ever seen. The lines and symmetry of his face was flawless and he was very tall, approximately 6’2. He was extremely handsome and could’ve passed for a model.
“Aria, I’m so sorry,” the lawyer looked at me with tears in his eyes, and I couldn’t understand why he was apologizing to me.
“Noah, sit down. Remember what I advised earlier? You’ll get to talk to your daughter in due time. I promise.”
Oh. My. God. The man with the salt and pepper hair wasn’t my father. He was the lawyer representing Noah; the younger man with the ocean eyes.
How could I have not recognized him? It suddenly occurred to me that I had never seen a picture of my dad. Mom never kept any photos of him. I had no idea what he looked like. And now, I finally knew. My mother was the same age as him, but she looked a lot older. I guess the hard times in life really aged her.
My estranged father kept glancing over at me, while I kept blushing like an idiot. For some reason, I couldn’t meet his eyes. The court proceeding was long and tiresome, as both lawyers kept negotiating back and forth, each defending their own client. It wasn’t until I took the stand, when the judge asked me what I wanted. Personally, I wanted to tell her that I didn’t feel safe at home. That my stepdad was always drunk and had a history of hitting me, but my mother made me swear not to say anything, and so I kept my promise. Throughout the entire month and prior to coming to court, I was prepared to tell the judge that I didn’t want to see my father or live with him, but when I saw the way he was staring at me, with tears in his eyes…I changed my decision and had a complete change of heart. I told the judge that I always wanted to meet my dad and get to know him. I also expressed that I preferred both my parents to share custody of me. And so it was ruled; my father (who I had never met before), had finally obtained joint custody. Noah Hunter was going to be in my life.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/incest/i-shouldnt-feel-this-way-chapter-1.aspx">I Shouldn't Feel This Way- Chapter 1</a>