When Broke Meets Wealthy

1) Leftovers

"Dinners ready!" I yelled down the hallway.

No response.

"I got Jess to give us her leftover lasagnaaa," I said with a smirk.

Just as I expected, the race down the hallway began.

"Hurry up and eat while its still hot!"

"I want a middle piece!" Ian quickly said as he washed a dirty fork under the sink full of dishes before stabbing it in the middle of the food.

"You always get the middle! give it to me," Jake argued as he tried to pick up the middle piece with his hands.

I laughed as I watched my brothers fight over a piece of lasagna as it slowly fell apart.

"There's gonna be nothing left of that piece if you keep fighting over it," I said.

"I'll settle this. Jake, did you wash your hands after you got that money from Vinny?"

"Umm...no."

"Ew, take it," Ian said, putting his hands up and reaching towards another piece.

"Go wash your hands Jake, no one wants drugs all over their dinner," I demanded.

Just then, the two little ones came running in.

"Hey guys! Go grab some food!" I said to them.

"Did you get lemonade from the store yet?" The youngest, Riley asked me.

"You bet I did, go ask Ian to pour you some Riles."

We all sat down and chomped away at our dinner.

Jess, my neighbor and very good friend always gave me her leftover food, which I am very greatful for.

Everyone in this messed up neighborhood helps each other out, whether it be money, food or drugs, we got each other because we all go through the same struggle. Well, they may not have to take care of their 4 other siblings who range from the ages of 4 to 19, but they all know what it's like to struggle with basic necessities that most people find easy to have.

These kids do their share as well, and it pains me to see them live like this, with no mother, and now no father, but I try my best to be the best adult figure I can for them, and for myself.

•

I tucked the two little ones in bed and said goodnight to the boys before they went in their room.

After washing the shit load of dishes, I crossed out another long day on my calendar.

Yup, 1,459 days with still no dad. Tomorrow is the day that marks his 4 year absence.

A week after mom died at birth with Riley, he was gone just like that, leaving me in charge of everything.

I wasn't prepared to be thrown into this at the age of 19, but now I'm 23 and i wouldn't trade these kids for the world.

I sat down on my bedroom floor and began writing my 32nd letter to my father.

I've been writing these letters and giving them to my uncle Sal, because he's the only one who knows where he is. No matter how hard I beg, or how much I offer, he never plans on telling me where he is, that asshole, but at least he is the only connection with my dad that I have.

I found a crumbled up piece of paper, grabbed a pen and began to write to him.

#32:
Dear dad/Henry

Tomorrow you'll be gone for 4 years. I keep telling myself that you'll be back soon, but no ones buying it. Even I'm starting to not believe myself. Poor Riley and Mason don't even know what you look like, even Jake, Ian and I are starting to forget what you fucking look like. I don't even know what to call you anymore, dad or just your name, Henry? Because you don't really deserve to be called dad, I mean you haven't been a dad for the past 4 years, but whatever I guess. Anyway, I got a new job at a bar, which pays a decent amount. I guess there's really nothing else to write other than an update on the kids:

Jake's still dealing drugs to help with the money, he just made some money from his best client, Vinny. You see what you're making us do? You're turning your kids into fucking drug dealers. Jake is 17 if you haven't been keeping track this year.

Ian's still working at the gas station, but he might just rob it cause he's not really getting payed enough. Once again, this is what we're doing to get by. Do you even care? Probably not. Oh and he's 19 now.

Little Mason is in Kindergarten now, which obviously means he's 6 years old. He likes to draw, does it a lot. He likes looking at old pictures of mom and us, but not you. He knows of you, how you left us, I don't how he found out, but he never looks at pictures of you, nor does he ask. He calls you the bad man who ran away.

That leaves little Riley. My little 4 year old angel. She's so innocent and fragile, which pains me to picture what might happen to that in the future. I've had to explain to her what a mom and dad was multiple times. It broke my heart when she asked why we don't have a mommy or daddy like everyone else, and all I could answer with was that mommy's in the sky and daddy didn't want to be our daddy anymore. She alwyas wears moms old wool hat that she used to wear on game nights, never takes it off unless its time for dream land. Remember when you used to tuck us in at night and tell us that it was time to take a trip to dream land?

Anyway, try and write back this time, even though I hate you and never want you back here in my house, I still miss you.

Stay A-Okay, Nina.

A tear traveled down my face as I wrote the last words.

Every time my father would drop us off at school or go to work, he would always say, "stay A-Okay" before he left.

The thing is,he never said it when he left us for good, maybe that's why no ones okay anymore.

I folded the letter up and put it on my nightstand before turning my lamp off and plopping down on my matress.

Time to start another hard working day, but first, its time for dream land.