The Lonely Confused Child. Part 1

When my mother had me she fell I'll and need someone to look after me until she was fit to care for me. But grandmother took this role and gave me the replaced love of my mother. We were staying in morocco, a three story house in Larache. A house full of memories and the place where I would take my first steps, through the eyes of my dear grandmother she would smile and her face would be flourishe with excitement. They say I was a smart little toddler, witty and acted with thought. I would cross my legs at a young age and speak like the women of the town, I don't remember if I used to play much but I used to do this hand gesture like the older women did. Id swirl my hand to right in a cirular motion. As if I was questioning or asking why, I picture myself in a white dress with a head band over my hair facing my granmothrt. Around 3yrs old I'd imitate my grandmother or my aunt who was still unmarried and living with us, she would be away a lot of the time studying in other cities in morocco. Every time she would return she would ensure that she brang with her a bang of goodies, delicious treats. They treated me well and spoiled me when I staying in morocco as a young child. Back in London would be the rest of the family, my immediate family, my sister, bother, and parents. The relationship between my parents was suffering deeply at this point, it was hanging by a thread. It was over. But a long time before they would be officially divorced or even say goodbye. They would continue as separated and my father would go and come from his flat near by to our house. When they would argue he would be gone in a flash and when he was there it was as if he were treading on thin ice around my mother.

If you would be interested to hear the next part of me. Please request I would love to continue writting.
Guidance123 Guidance123
18-21, F
May 12, 2012