A/N: hey everyone, this is going to be the renewed story of Never Let You Go. I know that this chapter is quite short, but I wanted to get the prologue out, and I'm already three quarters of the way finished with the next chapter. Hope you guys like it! I promise the next chapter is going to be a hell of a lot longer than this.
I still remember everything about that day. The day my life totally changed, even if I had no clue what was actually happening at the time. All the sights, sounds, smells, it is all burned into my mind, never leaving me alone. At the time, it didn't make a difference to me either way, and little did I know how bad it could get….
My sister, Cindy, and I had just finished giving our two year old yellow Labrador/retriever mix a long, messy bath. We had probably gotten more wet and soapy than Cassio, though. I could smell the acrid scent of dog shampoo stained into my hands, and could hear the clicking of nails on the hardwood floor as Cassio scrambled across the floor, trying not to skid into the walls, which made my six year old self giggle quietly. As I was about to enter my room to change out of my soapy and soaked clothes, I heard my Mommy call up the stairs for me to come down.
I walked down our long flight of stairs slowly, careful not to trip or slip and fall down them, which was a usual thing for me to do. Coming into the living room, I saw my Mommy and my Daddy sitting together on the couch, looking sad, and I was very surprised, I couldn't believe it! My Daddy was home for once! He was always working, and I hardly ever got to see him. When he was home, he usually sat on the couch watching the TV or on his computer, holding a bottle that smelled yucky. I think Cindy called it alcomhol before or something like that. I didn't like the smell of it, and I hated when my Daddy drank it.
"Baby, your Daddy and I have to talk to you about something very important, okay?" Mommy said softly, looking straight at me. "Daddy and I are getting something called a divorce honey. It means that we are splitting up, that Daddy won't be living here anymore. Do you understand? We will most likely be dating other people, and you will live here with me during the week and see Daddy on the weekends, when you don't have school."
I was confused. I didn't really understand how this would be very different, after all, I hardly saw my Daddy as it was. And he already was with other women, I knew that, I had heard him talking on the phone to them when Mommy was right upstairs. It didn't matter much to me, this divorce thing. It wouldn't be any different. So I shrugged my shoulders.
"Okay. Can I go back upstairs now?"
"Um…yes I suppose so. Are you sure you are okay baby?" Mommy asked, looking slightly taken aback.
I nodded my head, and, gripping the railing, walked up the stairs. Fifteen minutes after my Mommy called Cindy downstairs, she ran back upstairs crying. I didn't understand why everyone was so upset back then, but I would soon after that.
That had been one week before my seventh birthday. That night, my Daddy had taken his clothes and left, living on our small boat, with only the bear necessities and a toilet that didn't work.
My name is Mark Christian Cohen, and this is my story.