I was twelve the first time the fairy tale shimmered. Poison is deadly if you use it right. We were lucky…the apple spoiled.
At sixteen, the façade cracked. At seventeen, it shattered. Families don’t always stay together. Parents aren’t super heroes. They are vulnerable. Real. They make mistakes. They get sick. Childhood ends.
I was nineteen the first time I lost what I thought would make me whole. Twenty when it was forced upon me. Twenty-one when I had my first child.
At thirty-one, poison is real. Tangible. Parents die, words can kill, and fairy tales are for the blind.