Raising Teens

Chapter 1

The house is dark, silent. I lean calmly against the wall, waiting.
The clock ticks.
Finally, I hear the front door creak open, and footsteps. I wait until I see the figure reach the stairs, and then I flick the light on.
She freezes, slowly turning to look at me. I fold my arms across my chest, watching her.
"Mom." Rose says.
"Did you have a nice night?" I ask.
She gulps.
"Yes."
I nod.
It's three in the morning on a Friday night. She said she was going to bed at nine.
"Where did you go?" I ask.
"Vermont."
"Why?" I ask.
"Because I don't want to live with you."
I nod.
"But you're here." I say.
"I felt bad that I left my siblings."
"So you came back to get them." I say.
"Yes."
"Okay." I say. "Go wake them up."
"What?" She asks.
"Go wake them up." I repeat.
I stands there, hesitating, and then she turns around and goes upstairs.
A couple minutes later, Caden, he's fifteen, Rowan, she's fourteen, Brooke, she's twelve, and Ruby, she's eleven, they come downstairs.
I stand there, my arms crossed.
"Why are we awake?" Caden sighs.
The kids all hate me.
"I'm taking you to Grandma and Grandpa's." I say.
"Why?" Rowan asks.
"Because you don't want to be here."
"Mom, we miss Dad!" Rose snaps.
"You think I don't fucking know that?" I snap back. "I miss him too, but right now, you're stuck with me. If you want to leave, fucking leave." I open the front door, staring at them.
Nobody moves.
"I want to sleep." Brooke says.
"Yeah." Ruby sighs.
Rose looks down.
"I hate you Mom."
"Yeah, I know." I say.
I hate it when she fucking says that.
"Lets call Dad." Caden says.
He walks into the living room.
The kids follow him.
It's three in the fucking morning.
I pull my phone out, dialing Noah. I put it on speaker, setting the phone on the coffee table.
It rings seven times, and then stops.
He picks up.
"Yeah?" He grumbles.
I woke him up.
"Hey." I breathe.
"What's the matter? It's early."
"I'm going to send the kids to my parents." I say quietly.
"Why?" He asks.
"Because they hate me and they don't want to be here."
"That's not true." He says.
"Yes it is." I say.
"Brecklyn, no it's not."
"They're sitting here with me. Rose snuck out. She came back to collect her siblings."
Silence.
"What?" He asks. "She snuck out?"
"She's done this before Noah." I say.
Silence.
"Alright, I'm coming home."
"No, you're not. It's fine. They wanted to call you. I'm just letting you know that the kids are going to my parents."
He sighs.
"Alright."
"I love you." He whispers.
"I love you too." I look down at my hands, fighting tears away.
He's the coach of the baseball team.
It's in season. It's July and the season doesn't end until October.
It started in April. The kids hate when he's gone just as much as I do. I'm too strict for them, so they hate me.
I hang up, standing up.
"Pack your things." I say.
"I don't want to go to Grandma and Grandpa's." Brooke says.
"Well you're going."

<><>

I forced them to go. We're pulling up now. I get out.
They kids follow me. I walk up to the door, letting myself in.
I didn't call.
Mom knew it was getting mad. I've called her crying a few times.
I walk them into the living room.
Dad sits up.
"What's going on?"
"You guys are taking the kids until Noah comes home. They don't like me and they don't want to be with me."
My parents look at the kids.
"Brecklyn." Mom says.
"I already told Noah. They're staying here. I'll give you temporary custody so they can go to school."
"Mom." Rowan says. "I don't want to stay here."
She looks like she's going to cry.
"Sorry." I say.
I printed the form out online. I grab a pen from the kitchen, signing it, I slide it to my parents.
"They're legally yours until I come back for them."
"Mom." Rose whispers.
"By guys. I'll send your father when he gets home."
I turn around and walk out.

<><>

I walk in the house.
It's silent.
Completely silent.
I take a deep breath, fighting tears.
They kids fucking hate me.
I'm so done. I'm strict. If I'm not, they'll be little assholes.
I don't even care though.
I don't answer the phone for them.
They hate me anyways.
I'm going to teach them a lesson.
I never sleep when Noah's gone.
I'm forty one years old. You'd think I could handle sleeping, but I can't.
I clean the whole house, changing sheets and folding clothes.
I make the beds.
By four, the house is spotless and there's nothing to do.
My phone stars ringing. It's Noah.
"Hey." I sigh.
"You seriously left the kids at your parents?" He asks.
"Yeah."
"Caden just called me and he's really mad."
"I don't care."
"Brecklyn." Noah says.
"It's fine. My parents have temporary custody."
"It's not fine. Are you going to run from them?"
"No, I'm not running."
"Yes you are."
"I'm not picking them up."