Death end

Chapter 4: what happened?

Mom was seated at the kitchen table with the lawyer, her face a mask of resolve as she discussed filing for divorce. The weight of the decision hung heavily in the air. I understood her frustration, her desperation for change, but was this really how it was going to end?

I grabbed some leftovers from the fridge and retreated to my room, the gravity of the situation pressing down on me.

Fast forward to the night

When Dad came home, the atmosphere was charged with unspoken conflict. Mom didn't even open the door. Instead, she threw the divorce papers at him, her demeanor cold and detached. "I don't need anything from you. All I want is to keep the house and the kids. You can have it all," she said, her voice devoid of emotion.

Dad's voice, sharp with anger, cut through the tension. "They are not just your kids; they are mine too—"

"NO, THEY ARE NOT! NOT ANYMORE! NOT NOW, NOT EVER! YOU LOST THIS FAMILY THE MOMENT YOU CHEATED ON ME! GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! ... I'll meet you in court!" Mom's voice rose to a fever pitch, her fury echoing through the empty space.

The finality of her words crashed over me like a tidal wave. Our family was shattered. Not that I missed Dad's presence, but at least it could still be called a family. What was it now?

A week later, the courtroom loomed before us, a cold, imposing structure of justice. I stood beside Mom, who was visibly trembling with fear. I squeezed her hand, offering silent support as she looked at me with a weary smile. I gripped her hand tightly, hoping to provide some strength.

The trial was a harrowing experience. The air was thick with accusations and counterclaims. I sat silently, struggling to keep my tears in check as I witnessed the destruction of what remained of our family.

As the trial neared its conclusion, the matter of custody was brought to the forefront. Both Mom and Dad fiercely contested who would take the children. The head judge, in an attempt to resolve the deadlock, suggested a possible compromise: one parent could take full custody of one child.

The debate that followed was a painful spectacle. Mom and Dad argued vehemently over who would take Jay, while I felt like an invisible bystander. Their voices clashed, their arguments growing more heated, but no one seemed to notice the broken look in my eyes as they fought over Jay while seemingly disregarding me.

When the judge made the ruling, it was clear that Jay would stay with Mom, and I was to go with Dad. Dad's response was cold and contemptuous. "Her? Why would I want a disappointment like her in my life? I never even wanted her. She is nothing but a failure. If I need to take her, I'd rather not. My wife—sorry, my ex-wife—can have her."

Mom's expression was equally bleak. "I can't take you, love. I don't have enough money to raise both of you. And the judge said that we can only take one."

The weight of their words was suffocating. I stood up, my heart pounding, and shouted through my tears, "I DON'T WANT TO BE WITH ANY OF YOU! YOU MAKE ME FEEL SUFFOCATED! Mom, what did I do? I've always been a good daughter, always helped you out, always had your back! And Dad, I lived my whole life in fear just because you wanted me to be PERFECT! Was I not enough?"

Turning to the head judge, I asked, "Is there an option where I don't have to live with either of them?"

"There is, but I'm not sure if you'll like it, dear," she replied softly.

"Anything! I'll take anything that will keep me away from them, ANYTHING!"

And with those words, everything seemed to unravel further, the future uncertain and shrouded in darkness.

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