The Babysitter ✯ Kellic

Chapter One

The thing about children is that some people want them, and some people don't. But regardless as to what they might want, things don't always work out as planned. I like to think my ex girlfriend and I are prime examples of that. I wanted a kid and was under the impression that she did too. It just happened too fast for her, and next thing I know, she left me to raise a kid all by myself. What does a high school junior know about raising a kid? Not enough.

So, I, of course, went to my dad and step mom for advice. My dad never really took much care of me growing up, but my step mom knows more about children. Problem is that she isn't very fond of me. In conclusion, they didn't offer any advice for my predicament, other than that I should have had my ex, Katelynne, get an abortion before the baby was born. I wasn't going to kill my child, especially then when I thought we both wanted a child together. But, apparently, I was mistaken.

And that's where I am now. I have a one year old child whose mother left, what I'm assuming is the smallest apartment on the planet, no job, and I'm a senior in highschool. What could possibly be right about this fucked up situation? Oh, that's right: nothing. I'm totally screwed, and that's just my wishful thinking.

• • •

"I know you're already paying for the apartment, but please, Dad, your granddaughter needs clothes. I'm looking for a job, but I can't get one until there's somebody to watch her," I plead to my dad over the phone, holding Copeland with one hand and arm, the phone with the other hand. "I know you 'didn't raise me to beg', but I honestly need some help."

"Kellin, the kid is your problem, not mine. I'll help you some, but I'm not helping your mistake," he replies simply. There was no sympathy in his voice whatsoever. "Consider everything you're asking useless requests."

"My mistake? She's my daughter!" I practically yell at my dad. "If anything, this is just one generation following the previous one. I mean, am I mistake? Because Mom left when I was a kid. Maybe I wasn't as young as Copeland, but both of our mothers left, regardless."

"The situations are far from similar," my dad argues. I angrily sigh before closing my eyes for a second and taking a deeper breath. "But however you decide to look at it doesn't matter. You were seventeen when the kid was born, sixteen when Katelynne was pregnant with her. Your mother and I actually waited until a reasonable age to have kid together. We were both out of school by that point."

"What if I was in college? Would that be better for raising a kid?" I ask, annoyed at my father's arguments. I practically hear him shake his head over the phone. "But this is your granddaughter, you can't just throw her away!" I feel my eyes begin to well up with tears. "Family helps family out, right?"

"Family helps family out when the said member of the family in need of help isn't being a fucking idiot. Goodbye, Kellin," my dad says before hanging up on me. In tears, I put Copeland up in her crib, kissing her forehead lightly before walking out to the living room.

I find an open wall and stand with my back against it before sliding down until I'm sitting against the wall. I feel more tears slide down my cheeks before I rest my head in my hands. For one year, my grandma helped me take care of Copeland. She lived here at my house and took care of her while I was at school, she bought her baby clothes, food, the crib, some toys, and other baby essentials. But after that year she told me that, despite my young age, I could raise a baby by myself. So, she stopped paying for everything three months ago.

Except, she was wrong. I can't raise Copeland, but I don't know what else to do. I can't work because I don't have anybody to watch her. I was hoping she could live with my dad and I could see her every day after school. Problem is that Dad obviously doesn't approve of Copeland and hasn't since the day she was born. Another possibility pops into my head, but I push it far back. That's a last resource.

I take a deep, shaky breath and wipe the semi-dry tears off below my eyes. I can't just sit here and cry, I have to be strong for Copeland. I have to find a way to take care of her. I have to figure one out, and fast. The school break I'm currently on is ending next week, so that's how much time I have. But is one week enough time?

Copeland's wails from the bedroom snap me out of my thoughts and I get up, rushing to her. I pick her up out of the crib and hug her closely to my chest, gently rocking from side to side. I softly sing lullabies to her, and her crying slowly ceases. I pull her away from me and look at her, tears reforming in my eyes by doing so. Not only is it difficult taking care of her, but she has Katelynne's eyes. It feels like somebody is just pouring salt on this wound.

"Let's go to the park," I choke out to her, still managing to fake a happy tone. I assemble her stroller and buckle her in it, grabbing her favorite teddy bear and handing it to her. She makes some baby noises and laughs, causing me to smile and hurt at the same time. I have to find a way to take care of her.

I push her down to the park and take in the fresh air. Maybe it isn't much, but it really does make me feel better. There's something about nature that's just so great and always puts me in a good mood. I think it's the same way for Copeland because my grandma said that whenever she was crying, taking her to the park helped.

As I'm pushing Copeland, I realize that she loves the geese by the pond. Little things like this about her have always stuck with me. I know all the things that seem to make her happy, and the things that certainly don't. I know her favorite foods, drinks, favorite songs that I've sang to her. I feel my eyes begin to water again. I sigh. Please, not in public.

After about an hour she begins falling asleep in her stroller, so I take her back home. I place her in her crib, kissing her forehead like I always do, and shut the lights in our room off. "How could Dad call you a mistake?" I whisper absentmindedly. I wipe my shoulder length hair out of my face and sigh. "Maybe I was wrong, I'm probably the mistake."

As if she understands me, Copeland's eyes open and she gurgles spit in her mouth. I chuckle and stare at her as she laughs herself. "What am I going to do with you?" I whisper again. She makes more baby noises and my heart melts. "I'll figure something out," I assure myself, smiling.