Life sucks sometimes. No, correction, life sucks all the time. Especially when you have a pinhead boyfriend, who you can’t really stand. But if he left you, you’d probably die a slow and painful death just missing him. Makes sense, right? No, I didn’t think it so. Nothing in my life makes any sense. Not even my childhood made sense.

My life turned to hell when I hit age nine. My dad starting beating me after my mom left. Not being able to cope with it, he started drinking and took his anger out on me. He never did anything sexually, just beat the shit out of me until I was unable to stand or had puked from the all the pressure. Punched, kicked, slapped, basically anything he could think of within a minute. His beatings usually left me lying on the floor, laying in my own puke. After a while I learned to shut myself down, and not feel all the blows he gave me. But after a while I just found other ways to cope with the pain. Drugs, alcohol, you name it I’ve probably done it.

I turned to drugs and alcohol when I was thirteen, looking for a way to deal with all this pain. It actually worked, making me forget all my real life problems, but made me loose all control over myself. So in a way they worked, and in a way I lost everything. Not that I had much of anything to begin with. After my fifteenth birthday I met this kid named Zacky Baker, who was nineteen at the time. He didn’t really care about a relationship, he just wanted somebody to fuck around with whenever he wanted to. So that’s exactly what we did, fuck buddies right from the very start. That worked better than drugs or alcohol ever did, I actually felt like somebody cared about me when I was around him. Even though I was still into doing every drug I could get my hands on.

After a while Zacky and I started to grow closer to each other. Making us more than fuck buddies, actually us having a relationship. Kinda had to start a relationship seeing as I got pregnant at eighteen. It brought us closer together, but made us realized how much we hated each other even more.

Now I’m twenty-three and he’s twenty-seven, our daughter Ryleigh Jane Baker turned five last week. And her father and I hate each other more and more everyday that passes. But we pretend to like each other so Ryleigh doesn’t know about our true hatred towards one another. She’ll figure it out one day, but hopefully not for a long time from now. A very long time from now.

As I’m writing this, you’re probably wondering if I’m psychotic. Why? Because I’m with someone who hates everything I am and I hate everything he is, but we’re in love with each other. That doesn’t make me psychotic. That makes me human. And I’m very much human. You’re also probably wondering how I could hate him and love him at the same time. Hell, I don’t even know. All I know is I do and that’s that. I would die without him. Yet I would also love it if he didn’t come home at all tonight and then find out his car hit a tree and he died. But then I would also kill myself for losing him.

Yes, my life is very messed up in the most amazing of ways.

One reason I hate him so much is because he’s a musician. They’re the worst. Gone all the time, not there for your daughter, and always thinking they can get away with it if they fuck a groupie. But I know he’s never done that. It’d hurt Ryleigh and it’d hurt me. He couldn’t live with himself.

But that’s also a reason I love him. He’s an amazing musician with so much talent that I always feel a bit of luck when I’m around him and his friends and I’m claimed as his when his fans want to get at him. He’ll always so, “No, sorry ladies. I’m taken tonight.” Then he’ll pull me closer by my hip and that’s that.

Then we go home and fight.

He’s the best and worst thing in my life. I hate him, yet I love him.

Oh yes. Life sucks in so many ways.
~*~*~*~
I rolled my eyes as I saw that Zacky was, once again, late. He was at the studio all the time working on a new album, leaving me and Ryleigh all alone here.

We’ll see if he likes it when I take Ryleigh and leave. Then we’ll see if he stays gone all night long, my mind raged, flinging the dirty dish towel down the basement stairs.

“Come on, Ry. You need a bath then its time for bed baby,” I said, going over to the table where my baby girl was sitting coloring in a Disney Princesses coloring book.

“But mommy I wanna wait till Daddy gets home. PLEASE?” she whined. She gave me her puppy dog look, a look that made her look so much like her father. A look I couldn’t ever say no to. So I gave into it.

“Fine, Ry. Only a couple more minutes, but it’s getting late. Daddy won’t be home till after you’ve gone to sleep,” I said glancing at the clock on the wall. It was 8:15, and her head kept drooping.

I sat down at the table next to her, and starred out the window across from the table. The window looked out directly into my driveway. I sat there starring hoping I would see headlights pull in and dance around the walls. But no such luck.

Ryleigh’s head dropped lower and lower on her neck. “Come on Ryles, you need your bath.” I picked her up and headed upstairs to her bathroom.

I started the water, undressed her, and sat her down. I gave her the bath toys that sat next to bathroom sink. I watched her, but I wasn’t really there. I sat on the toilet thinking about Zacky, and how he’d much rather be at the studio than here with me or his daughter.

I let Ryleigh play for about ten or fifteen minutes. Then I started washing her hair, and body, noticing that she was falling asleep right in the tub, as she was playing with her rubber ducky.

I finished washing her, and pulled her out. Dried her off, dressed her, and tucked her into her bed, with her teddy bear Teddy. I stood looking at her, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath she took. I wondered why anybody wouldn’t wanna be here, helping me take care of this beautiful little girl. But nobody was there to help. They left me to deal with her whining, crying, and everything else that comes with raising a five year old child.

I left her room, and went downstairs hoping to see Zacky pull in. I get my hopes up way to much, then I’m sad once they fall again. But the driveway was as empty now as it was the last time I looked into it. That wasn’t shocking.

I flopped in front of the TV, and started flipping through the channels. I put my head back against the couch, starring at the ceiling. My eyes became weak, and I drifted off to sleep not soon after.

My eyes popped open at the sound of a car door and footsteps on the gravel outside in the driveway. I looked at the clock on the TV, and it said 3:30. holy shit, and he’s just getting home. Where the hell has he been? I wondered, as the key turned in the lock of the front door.

I closed my eyes again so he would think I was asleep and he didn’t wake me up. His footsteps came into the house, the door shutting behind him. He came towards the living room where I lay and I held my breath, hoping he’d just leave me alone and go upstairs.

“Baby, wake up,” he murmured. I felt his hand on my arm. I almost groaned but caught myself.

“What?” I grumbled sleepily.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he said, shaking my arm again.

“What time is it?” I asked, stretching out over the length of the couch.

He glanced up at the clock that hung above the fireplace. “Three,” he murmured.

I grunted, acting like I didn’t hear him. But I did. I did fully well. “Three,” I muttered bitterly. I raised myself up and pushed past him towards the stairs.

“Something wrong?” he asked, following me quickly.

“Nope. Everything’s fine and dandy,” I said sarcastically, stomping up the stairs.

Zacky followed me quickly. “Sure it is.”

“It’s three in the fucking morning! What do you want me to say?”

“Uh–hello?” he said.

I turned and he stopped before he ran into me. “Nice try.”

I turned and started back towards our room.

“What’s your problem? You knew I was at the studio.”

“You’re always at the fucking studio. Try being home for once and be responsible for your daughter!” I yelled.

His jaw tightened. “I am responsible for our daughter. Why do you think I work so damn hard at being a rock star?”

“To pleasure yourself with groupies?” I shot back.

His face turned to hurt and I knew that pushed it. I knew he didn’t do that and it hurt him to think I thought that. “That’s not fucking true. It’s not true and you fucking know it.”

“What ever. I’m going to bed.” I turned.

“No! We’re not done! I’m not going to sit here and be called a cheater by my fucking girlfriend! I’venever been with a groupie and you saying that just is fucked up!”

“Well then why are you never home? Hum?”

“I am home! But I do have to work, too!”

“You work all the damn time! I have to take care of Ryleigh all by myself and you’re no fucking help to me one bit!”

“Oh, fuck you Veronica!” His voice rang over the entire house.

My retort was cut short by a small whimper from behind Zacky.

He spun around faster then I’d ever seen him and I looked around him, only to see Ryleigh standing there, her hair a mess, clutching Teddy, her eyes big and wide and scared and tearfilled.

“Ryleigh,” Zacky said.

Ryleigh’s eyes went huge, even bigger then before, and she raced down the hall into her own room, slamming the door behind her.

Zacky’s heartbroken face was enough for me. It hurt because I knew I was the one who initiated the fight. Now his daughter is afraid of him.

I quickly turned and ran into my own room, slamming the door.

I heard his angry, heartbroken sigh. He trudged towards our daughter’s room.

I stood there at the door, tears welling up in my eyes. I heard Zacky knock on Ryleigh’s door. I stuck my head out, and heard him talking to her. I noticed the door was left open, so I snuck down there to hear what was going on.

“Come on Ryles, talk to me,” Zacky said. I could hear the plead in his voice.

“No, go away. I don’t wanna talk to you!” Ryleigh screamed, in a high pitched voice.

I heard Zacky sigh, then try again. The pleading stronger in his voice this time. “Talk to me Ry. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Go away, I don’t wanna talk to you!” She screamed yet again, in her high pitched voice.

Zacky sighed his sigh of ‘I’ve give up.’ But I knew that he wouldn’t give up on his daughter, he never had. “Don’t be scared. Come here Ryleigh.”

“I’m not scared, daddy. Go away!” She screamed, harder and louder this time. I peaked inside her room, and Ryleigh was cowered in her corner by her bed, and Zacky was crouching down to her level, trying to coax her to him.

“Yeah you are, baby. I can tell by the look on your face you are,” Zacky said. I put my head back against the wall, feeling guilty I made my own daughter scared of her father. It’s not the first time I’ve done that, with all the yelling and fighting going on around here.

“You really scared me, daddy. Why were you yelling at mommy?” She asked, her voice rough from all the screaming she did in the last five minutes.

“I wasn’t yelling at Mommy. We were talking, babe. I’m sorry I scared you, I didn’t mean to,” he said.

I peaked my head back in, and watched her leave her corner, and give her Zacky a hug. I smiled a smile of relief, of that being done and over with.

I walked back down to my room shutting the door quietly behind me. I starting changing into my pajamas. I had my pants off and putting my My Chemical Romance sleep pants on, when Zacky walked in.

He looked at me and turned his head away quickly. I took my shirt off and watched Zacky throw his on the floor. Stripping down to just his boxers. I walked over and grabbed the shirt he just had on, off the floor.

I love the smell of him. Cigarettes, Jack Daniels, and sweat. My favorite smell in the world. I turned around to get into bed, and noticed Zacky starring at me.

“What?” I asked, giving him a death glare. I pulled back the covers on the bed, and climbed in next to Zacky.

“Nothing. Just wondering why you’re wearing my smelly ass shirt, I’ve worn all day long,” he said flipping on the tv, across the room on the opposite wall.

“Because I didn’t want to dirty another one, okay? Okay.” I huffed, trying to be a bitch, but not quite working. He laughed at me, and started flipping channels.

I lay starring at the ceiling, and I noticed his eyes on me again. I looked over at him.

“What babe?” I said, adverting my eyes back to the ceiling, sighing.

“Nothing. Just looking at how beautiful you are,” he remarked. I smiled, he was always being so sappy, it always made me smile, no matter how mad I was at him.

I rolled over halfway onto his chest, and looked at him. I couldn’t be mad at him forever, even though I was still not exactly happy about it. I kissed him, and he kissed me back harder, his hands running up my back. I ran my heads through his hair. I pushed away from him, and rolled onto my side of the bed.

I pecked him on the lips one last time. “I love you, Zachary Baker,” I said, rolling over on to my left side facing the door to our closet.

“ I love you too, Veronica.” I heard him flipping through channels. That was the last thing I heard, before my head was filled with memories of me and Zacky, and I drifted off to sleep.