Fan Fiction ❯ Changes ❯ Dad ( Chapter 1 )

Changes

Written by: Audrey Kyere

 

 

 

INTRODUCTION

 

Have you ever wondered how life would be if you had both your parents and maybe a sibling or two? You lived in a big house on top of a hill where you could sit on your porch and look at the cars passing by on the private road. You probably haven't, but I have. When you feel like no one cares about you and that the world is your only friend, you tend to think of these things, sort of like a dream that you feel can never come true. Then I moved away from Cherry Hill and my world began to change….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 1: Dad

 

 

I sat up in my bed. It was 8:00 in the morning and the sun was shining brightly through my window.

“Not today...” I mumble out loud as I rolled over and rubbed my eyes, then got up and closed the blinds. I wasn't in the mood for a sunny day today. I sat in front of my mirror, looking at how much I changed since my dad left. Well actually, since my mom and I left my dad. I think life was truly at its best when my dad was around.

 

Although we didn't have much money, we were always able to find an inexpensive way to have fun. A typical Friday together would consist of the three of us packing some of our belongings and camping out at the local conservation center until early Sunday morning. If it happened to be in the middle of winter, we would rent a cottage for the weekend and drink hot cocoa by the fire. It was truly a great family to be part of in my opinion. But as they say, all good things come to an end. I turned eleven when my “heaven on earth” disappeared and hell moved in.

 

My mom started picking fights with my dad. At first, it was over little things like his eating habits or his cleanliness. Then they started getting out of hand. Mom began to argue about the way money was spent in the house when she lost her job at the super market. My dad mainly kept quiet, enduring all the curses being thrown at him. But after four months, dad couldn't keep quiet anymore. Neither dad nor mom could stand each other for more than a minute. I remember sitting in the living room when my dad would get home from work. Dad wouldn't even get a “hello” out before mom was at his throat about the latest bill. So they did what every couple seemed to do those days when they couldn't take it anymore. They separated. Thirteen years of marriage, down the drain. My mom and dad kept reassuring me that the whole breakup was only for a “while” or until they “sorted some things out”. Right before dad moved out, it was known as a “trial separation”. But I wasn't stupid. Just because I was eleven at the time, didn't mean I didn't have enough brains to figure out that dad wasn't coming home that Friday evening. It surely doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that when dad's already calling around and making plans to move out, and even starting to see other people (behind mom's back), this was a divorce, not a “trial separation”.

 

I wanted to stay and live with dad, but he kept telling me that I would have a better life with mom. Unfortunately, my life became the complete opposite of his prediction. After the divorce was finalized, mom came into my room one night and told me to pack my bags. That was it. Just like that, I was leaving the only place I knew my whole life. My mom and I left everything behind in Cherry Hill on September 16th, four days before my dad's birthday, and moved to this absolutely crummy town.

 

I hate it here. There is absolutely nothing to do. Statesville's idea of “fun” is spring-cleaning, or helping out at the dozens of Old Folk's Homes and retirement centers. With my new dwelling and town, I began to care less about my appearance and changed the way I look. I straightened my once long, golden, bouncy locks, as my mother described them, and dyed it jet black. I wish I had a camera with me when I came home and showed mom the “new dew”. Let's just say she was more shocked than the time she got the $300.00 phone bill, complete with many long distance calls to Australia. My wardrobe has one aim now, to shield my body and thoughts from the world and bring absolute comfort. Before, being popular and wearing the latest fashions were always the first things on my mind, but now, there's no one to show off to or compete with so why bother? My grades have also taken a dive in the deep end. The once beautiful ninety-six percent average has turned into an ugly sixty percent. Don't ask me how or why I did that, I just did. It's not only that though, it's my whole personality. My mom thinks I'm going through one of those adolescent, rebellious fazes. A faze…right.

 

As I walked through the narrow passage-way of the apartment my mom and I now shared, I looked into my mom's room, just to check if she was there. She wasn't, and it didn't sound like she was home either. Her bed was neatly made, the white and navy-blue blanket my Grandma made for her last Christmas folded neatly on the left side of her bed. I walked into her room and sat in front of the mirror. I couldn't understand it, but I had suddenly become intrigued by every crease, pimple, black head, and freckle that lay on my face. I think it comes from the cleansing obsession I had way back when. Looking at myself through the mirror made me think twice about what mom had said about fazes. I swirled around in the chair, taking in the slight aroma of vanilla that filled the room. Moving from the chair to her bed, I noticed that the pillows looked as if they had not been slept on and there was no imprint showing that my mom had been tossing and turning in her sleep the night before. I wasn't that alarmed, seeing that mom was in operation “dating phase”. One time, I didn't see her from 6p.m. till about 5:00 p.m. the next day. The apartment seemed so empty without my mom walking up and down the halls, yelling at me to think positive. But don't get me wrong, I couldn't care less about where she was. It's not like she cared about my well being, seeing how she couldn't be bothered to cook anymore, let alone do grocery. I popped two slightly freezer-burned waffles I found in the back of the freezer into the toaster, just about the same time the phone rang.

 

BRRRIIINNNGGG! ... BRRRIIINNNGGG! I ran to the phone, not wanting to miss the call, picked up the receiver, and talked into the modern device.

“Hello?”

“Sammie, is that you?” My face expression dropped to that of a person who rather be doing something else, like consuming freezer-burnt waffles with maple syrup pasted the expiry date. It was probably another one of mom's numerous dates anyways. But then again, they did know my name. My mom didn't particularly like to mention me in her conversations with people unless it was absolutely necessary or made her look good, so it wasn't common at all for a guy to know my name.

“Who's asking?”

“Is that how you always answer the phone now Sam?”

“Are you going to tell me who the hell you are or do you want me to hang up?”

“Wow, wow, wow, Sammie. Don't you recognize me? It's your dad.” I pulled back a little from the phone and froze. I didn't like talking to him. It just felt weird to talk to my dad and lie that I was doing great and that I wasn't mad at him anymore.

“Oh, sorry dad. I was just making breakfast when the phone rang. So I'm a little agitated that you've taken my attention away from food…anyways, why did you call?”

“How are you?”

“I'm alright and you? I guess your doing just great seeing how you decided to call after how many months?”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“Ouch, Sammie. You're exceptionally bitter today.”

“Well, you know I try.” I smiled sarcastically, even though I was fully aware that he couldn't see me. I tend to be too animated when I'm on the phone.

“Anyways, I just called to see how things are with you and mom.”

“Cool, I guess.” Cool if you consider practically living by yourself. ”What about yourself?”

“I've moved a little south of Cherry Hill. I'm living beside Grandma Bess. She needs a little help getting around, and it just so happens that Patty lives near there too.” “Interesting….”

“I guess…um…how's Candi? Is she holding up well?”

“Yeah, I'd say so. She started dating. You know, moving on. Too bad she wasn't able to start as early as you. When was it? Oh yeah! You met Patty about a week after you and mom separated.” There was a brief pause then his voice broke the silence.

“That's good for her. At least she's happy.”

“Yup, real happy.” Another pause.

“Well, I wanted to let you guys know when the marriage is, incase you wanted to come. It's on the fifteenth of next month, a Saturday. Hope that'll bring something different to the atmosphere…”

“Wow, that's great. I'm so happy for you. Good luck.”

“You don't sound too happy… more sarcastic if you ask me.” Sometimes I wonder if I have to tap dance for him for him to believe I'm “happy”. I mean, I really couldn't care less about his happiness, but I was courteous enough to entertain the thought for him..

“Is something wrong?”

“Nope, nothing's wrong.” There was another three second pause then dad began to talk again.

 

“Sammie, I know you're still mad at me. Tell me what about.”

“If you “claim” to know that I'm still mad at you, shouldn't you know what I'm mad about?”

“Come on, just tell me. I'm still your father. You can still talk to me about your problems. If your worried about me not being able to handle it, don't worry about that either.”

“It doesn't matter if you can handle it or not. I don't really want to talk to you. It's not like you'd care anyways. I mean, whether you like it or not, I'm still your god damn daughter. The least you can do is call me more often and ask how I'm doing… ”

“Call more often?” he began to raise his voice. I could tell he was getting upset, but it didn't matter because I was mad too. “Every time I call you, you never tell me anything! I can only do so much, Samantha. If you're not willing to open up to me, why bother asking!?”

“Because you're supposed to care! It's like…I don't know! Your frickin' job! That's what comes with the responsibility of having a child! I don't answer you because you don't ask me anything. Besides, you're the parent, not me! Just call once in a while! It sure as hell won't kill you, now would it? I feel sorry for any kid you and Patty ever make. Unfortunately, it's going to have to share the same screwed up, uncaring father as me!”

“How dare you raise your voice at me or talk to me in that manner?! It's not my fault that you're so obsessed with having a perfect life. Nothing is perfect. Ok? Nothing! So stop trying to make it seem that way! Just get on with your life and leave the past behind! And don't you dare tell me how to raise any child of mine! I'm doing the best job I know how to!” My throat began to tighten as I swallowed the saliva in my mouth. A single tear streamed down my cheek. It seemed liked I've been doing a lot of crying lately. It was just that all the pain, sorrow, hate, and rage that I've held inside me wanted to burst out and I guess it had picked today to make its appearance.

“I'm sorry to break it to you, but your best isn't good enough! I can't believe you. Now I know why mom really left you. You're nothing but a cold hearted person who cares about himself and himself only. If this is how you're going to treat me, then maybe you shouldn't call anymore. It's not like you make things any better when you do.” After a while of silence, I felt a sense of relief. I was sort of at peace with myself. This one moment in my life, I was happy again, even if it was short lived.

“Oh. Well, I'm sorry for making things worse... I have to go…”

”That's all you have to say?”

“What am I suppose to say to you? You told me how you feel. I don't want to argue with you. Besides, I'm tired of trying to please something that doesn't want to be pleased.”

“What the hell is that suppose to mean, something? Is that how you think of me? As another one of your possessions that you can throw away whenever you get tired of it? You know what, forget you! I don't need you anymore. You're nothing to me, nothing! I waste my time trying to make you happy, and for what? Huh, for what? You can't even show me a little sympathy! All I ever wanted was to be happy, ok? Am I not even worthy of that?! It doesn't matter to you anyways, right? After all, it's not like your happiness ever involved me.” Now, my tears where flowing freely and my nose was dripping. I just couldn't take it anymore. How dare this man, this creature talk to me as if I was just some random person? Is this how children my age are treated by their parents?

“That's not true, Samantha, you should know that. I sometimes wish I was back with your mother, just so that you're happy again. But what was then is gone. Things will never be the same. Your mom and I have been through too much to get back together. Plus, we've both moved on, there's no point in going back.”

“No, I don't know, and saying all that crap isn't going to change my mind about the way…” Just then, my mom walked in and she threw herself onto the sofa. Her eyes began to close as she ran her long, red, fake finger nails through her light blond hair.

 

“Who are you yelling at Sam? I could here you hollering when I was at the elevator. That's no way to talk to people. Kids these days…” She shook her head. “Wait, didn't I tell you not to answer the phone when I'm not home?”

“You never told me that, and even if you did, I wouldn't listen. I don't listen to people that can't show me respect.”

“Oh Samantha,” my parents tend to use my full name when they wanted something to really stick in my head. It usually didn't work and I'm sure they knew that, but they still did it, “you're on a role today, eh? When are you ever going to learn to let go of things? Besides, it was only that one time when I was mad at you so I decided not to listen. Plus, I'm the mother here. It's not written anywhere that I have to listen to you when ever you talk.”

“Then I guess I can say the same thing about you.” She opened her eyes and looked at me. They widened a little, I think because of how flushed and red my face looked, and then went back to their regular state.

“It's your dad, right?” She was referring to the phone. She sighed and closed her eyes again when I continued to stare at her without answering. “He's always able to get you all rallied up like this, isn't he? Well, I wouldn't blame you, Hun. After all, if it wasn't for him and his stupid dreams, we wouldn't be like this…”

“Since when did dad and what ever dreams he may have had got anything to do with the divorce?” I rolled my eyes when she didn't answer and turned my attention back to the phone.

“I've got to go now. Mom needs the phone.”

“Oh, ok. I guess this is good bye for now?”

“For now, forever, I don't care…” Dropping the phone on the base, I shot a dirty look at mom. She turned over to look at me from the corner of my eye. She dismissed my look with a wave of her hand.

 

“Don't worry about anything Sammie. It'll all work out in the end.”

“No need to lie to me anymore, mom, I'm not 11.” I picked the phone up again, slightly hoping dad was still on the line, but I knew he was long gone. The steady buzz of the phone was soothing as I tried to calm myself down before dealing with my next problem: Mom.