Saddest Memory

The weather in Honolulu is difficult to explain. It's beautiful and pleasant. We were given our luggage as soon as my family and I exited the plane. As we drove away from the airport, I breathed in the fresh Hawaiian air. Hawaii has an orange juice and vanilla ice cream-like atmosphere.

"A princess shouldn't be carrying such heavy things," Jake said, empathetically. My cheeks flushed as I recalled how lovely my family is. "Thank you, Twinie," I mused, and he guffawed at my use of the term "twinie."

My family and I boarded a bus bound for Honolulu, where we were staying. We sat next to each other, staring out the window at the Honolulu sights outside the bus. Some college students sitting next to each other behind us were smoking, which I found insulting, but what could I do? I just ignored them and continued viewing the outward attributes of Honolulu with my family. One of them lit a cigarette out of nowhere, and the poncho he was holding started a fire. As he threw the hanky on the transit ground, I was deathly afraid. I was at a loss for what to do. The bus was full of people fleeing for their lives, but the main exit door was locked.

The entire scenario shifted from amusing to terrifying. A passenger pushed the transit door open. Except for me, who stood paralyzed with fear at the bus exit, everyone else jumped off the bus, including my family.

"Jump off the bus, dear," mum yelled, but I was too dumbfounded to respond.

"We're all here for you, Jessie, and we'll never abandon you. So you must jump right now to ensure that we are never separated again "Dad was confident in his words.

I felt relieved after hearing what my dad had said, so I shut my eyes and jumped off the bus. The bus caught fire right after I jumped off, causing me to collapse to the ground and my head to spin.

"Jess! Jess!! Jessica Hills!!!"

Jake, mum and dad yelled my name,and everything became hazy. My head hurts a lot, but hearing my name yelled over and over made it worse.

"I'm okay, please I'm fine"

"Fine? Who cares if you're fine or not? You never cease to surprise me at times. I advise you get your fat arse out of the bed.

Darn it! It was all a dream.

I rolled around on the bed, my head buried in the pillow, and moaned with dissatisfaction.

"Leave my room Jake, you just ruined my beautiful dream, why don't you ever knock before entering my room?" I screamed, still groggy but enraged.

With an astonished expression on his face, he glanced at me "you've got to be kidding right now. I knocked the door of your room so hard that if it were alive, It would be crying right now. You're crazy Jess,"

I grumbled hurling my pillow at him, "big -headed slimeball"

He smirked as the pillow smacked him and muttered, "in any case, I'm just here to remind you that today is Spring cleaning day"

Fuck

Spring cleaning? My worst day of the year. Even though I didn't want to, I pushed myself out of the bed. Jake was still standing next to my dressing mirror, a long smirk on his face and his arms folded in front of him, looking at me.

"Do you have hearing impairment? You don't understand what the word "leave"means, do you?

As he sat beside my dressing mirror, Jake grinned. He attempted to read my diary but I snatched it away from him just in time.

"Leave my room Jake ", I screamed, motioning for him to exit the door.

He walked to the direction of my hand and whispered mischievously, "Crazy Jessie ", I pursued him out of the room and slammed the door shut. I was dreaming about the fictitious Jake, despite the fact that I already knew my twin was a jerk and that fact would never change. My headache had worsened, so I placed my left palm on my forehead. I walked over to the dress mirror's table and took my migraine pills.

Was Jake right? Is it possible that I'm losing my mind? Every night, I get strange dreams about unreal occurrences and wake up with a severe headache.

I sat on my vanity's stool, tying my hair in a messy bun. I went to freshen up, and of course, wore my oldest outfit, a faded white and blue striped mini gown. Every Spring cleaning day, you must put on one of your oldest clothes that you intend to discard.

It took me three hours to clean my room, with the exception of the bathroom, which I have to keep shining even if it wasn't particularly dirty. I was preparing to scrub the toilet when I heard a loud thump from downstairs. The unexpected loud thud came from the living room, I believe.

I went downstairs and found mum on the floor, with dad standing behind her, wielding a black thick long belt and bashing it on her. Tears streamed down my face.

Jake stood beside me enraged, and all we could do was stand there and watch our inebriated dad beat up our mum. Unlike other dads, my dad is different. Everyday he gets intoxicated, and comes home the next morning to beat up my mum. Jake and I get beaten up by him whenever we tried to intervene.

When I was in seventh grade, my classmates would tell each other amusing stories about their dads, making me feel as if I didn't have a dad at all. Dad continued to bash her till blood gushed out of her nose and other crucial organs of her body. As he was breathless and fatigued, sat down on the couch, still clutching his belt. Mum who was half-conscious on the floor, forced herself to rise up and grasp the nearest object in her proximity, a yellow porcelain vase. When he wasn't looking, she whacked it on Dad's head. As blood flowed from his injured head, Dad shrieked. He fell to the ground unconscious after rolling from the couch he was sitting on. Mum took two steps backward after tossing the vase to the ground. Her palms were pressed against her cheeks as she sobbed.

It was a gruesome scene to witness as my bawling became louder and louder until I was on my knees, crying ceaselessly. Mum wiped her tears away and walked over to Jake and me. She stared at us and smiled, assuring us that everything would be OK, before dismissing us to our rooms. I didn't want to leave mum alone in such a situation, but we had no choice but to listen to her because she was emotionally distraught. We did everything she said, so I went to my room and shut the door. I moved my left eye closer to the peep hole so that I could see what was going on downstairs. I was concerned about mum 's safety, and I was sure that Jake was as well.

Mum fell to the ground, devastated, as she peered at her husband, who was comatose on the floor. She wiped her tears away, stood up, and walked over to the phone's landline, which was in the corner of the living room.She dialed some numbers on the phone, she and the person she had contacted had a long chat that made mum cry intensely. I noticed tears were streaming down my face as I watched mum cry. My heart was racing, as if I were terrified of what was about to happen.