Thinking..

I've been thinking a lot. A LOT. First, a little about me. I lived in Florida until third grade. Then, I moved here. Okay, now...back to thinking. I hate to think. I don't mean "think" like use my brain, but think about stuff like Florida or my father. Don't get me wrong, my dad's okay and I miss Florida like crazy. But, they both make me sad.
Now, you might be wondering why those things would make me sad. Well, Florida makes me sad because things were so easy back then. Wake up at 6, wake Daddy up, shower, wake Daddy up, get dressed and braid my hair, get breakfast, wake Daddy up, then go to school. I'd go to school and talk to friends. Then, I'd go to my after-school program and play with my best friend until Daddy picked me up. Then, we'd go home, each to our own room. That was how every day went. I miss that. I miss knowing my father, seeing him every day. Now, I'm lucky to even talk to him once a month.
Frankly, though, he terrifies me. Which makes me glad I don't live with him. He can get so angry sometimes. He turns bright right and just explodes. I swear the house shakes. It's not like he'd ever hit us, but sometimes I think that might be more bearable than his words.
Another reason I don't like to think about him and Florida is the women. It seems like every night that wasn't a school night he had a different woman over. I'd wake up, try to say good morning, and see something no 5, 6, or 7 year old should. Then, I'd slip out the door and play with my friends. I hated every one of those women, except for one. She had a daughter. One night, while she was with Daddy, her daughter and I stayed up all night playing video games, the t.v. loud enough to drown out all other sound. After a week or two, that one was gone and another was in her place
Last year, I learned things about him. Things he did. Things he still does. Things no little girl should ever have to grow up around. I can never look at him the same.