On May 11, 2009
“Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring.” I answer it.
“Hello, can I speak to Ariana.” It was my dad.
“Hi!” I said. It made me smile from ear to ear to talk to my dad.
Until he said, “I’m in jail.” Beeeeeeeeeep.
I dropped the phone. I came to my room and sat in the corner with tears down my face.
“What’s wrong?” asked my mom.
“It will be ok.,” said mom, but there was an angry tone in her voice. She tried not to show she was mad and angry, but I know she was angry at my father. Whenever my dad gets me upset, my mom’s face turns reddish and a little orangish. She looks like the sun. Days went by. I was not longer crying, but on the inside, I was angry and furious. I would not talk to anyone for three weeks. It was always a rainy day on the inside because I felt like my heart was broken. I had the blues. I kept asking myself why does this keep happening? He has missed out on so much of my life. I did not want him missing out on anymore of my life and my future. I didn’t want him missing out on all the stuff that I could do.
He had already missed so much. Like when he missed my moving up ceremony in first grade. I was crying inside because he was not there. I thought that my dad did not LOVE ME anymore because he missed my first grade moving up. He came up to me and said, “sorry”.
I said, “It’s ok Daddy.” I was only seven when that happened. Now I’m thirteen and I know not to forgive him.
I was sitting down on the couch watching TV when the house phone rang. It was my dad, “Hello,” he said. “Hello,” he said again. My head was going crazy. I kept asking myself, should I say something? Should I just hang up the phone? I didn’t and I felt ok that I didn’t because I felt that I should not listen to someone who had broken my heart or someone who was supposed to be a hero to me. It was not fair to me. But then again, that was my father, and I didn’t want to disrespect him, so I just called my sister and told her to say I was asleep. We go through the same routine each time he calls.
I may sound like I don’t love him, don’t get me wrong. I do love my father. But the thing he’s done to me in my life, I would not forget it. Like not coming to see me in the first grade and other things a father should do.
The thing that gets me more upset was that he does not say sorry or his actions. I didn’t want to hear it on the phone. I wanted it in person. He should have been there for me through my ups and downs.
Anonymous, FDR Schenectady, NY.