Struggles of a Single Father (Book 1 of the Struggle Puff Series)

Chapter 1

Edited – 1/19/2020

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As a father, there are quite a few things that I learned how to do; how to change a diaper, feed a baby, and how to burp, soothe, and clean up after my own child.

As a single father, I learned even more. Like how to do what everyone told me was the mom's job. How to get up every time she cried without anyone to take turns with.

And as a teenage father, I learned the most. Like how everyone is your friend until you really need them, how to appreciate the little things in life, and how life is so much better when you have someone you adore to share it with.

It's unbelievably normal for there to be teen parents nowadays, but at the time, not so much. Especially since I was only fourteen. Even more uncommon was that the mom left instead of the dad.

I'm being vague, so I'll try to summarize;

Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl thinks boy is hot, girl leads boy on, boy is a moron, boy and girl have sex, boy and girl were playing it safe, girl and boy got too impatient for safe one day, girl gets pregnant and goes bat-shit crazy, girl wants abortion, boy struck a deal, girl had baby, girl disappears, and then boy is left with baby.

Still too vague? Fine. I'll start from the beginning.

It was the summer before my freshman year and like any fourteen-year-old kid, I was excited to finally be in high school.

I'll preface the rest of the story by saying this; I am not what you would call an ugly kid. At the time, I was a little under six feet tall, with a lean body, black hair, and grey eyes. So obviously, I was a big hit with the ladies in middle school.

That being said, I never dated anyone. I was more academically interested at the time.

That summer, I met a girl named Kimberly Owens.

I met her at a block party. We started talking and hit it off. I found out that she was a sophomore in the school I was going to be attending. On top of that, she was beautiful too. She had long brown hair, bright blue eyes, and peach pink lips. At the time, she was the girl of my dreams.

We started going out with our friends first, but then it evolved into us going out alone. We ended up being alone a lot, and in all that time alone, we started having conversations that we probably shouldn't have had. Like how we thought the other would be in bed. She made a point to always bring it up when she could.

I was resilient at first, and would always laugh it off, but before I knew it, all that time we spent alone was dedicated to making out which eventually shifted into sex.

Our relationship was just sex after that. It seemed as if that was all she really wanted. It was disheartening, but I didn't want to lose her, so I kept my mouth shut. I thought that I could change her.

On December eighteenth, everything changed when the fire nation attacked.

Just kidding. But everything did change that day.

Kimberly had come to my house that night in complete hysterics. Her hair was a mess, eyes puffy, and her face was red. It was the worst she had ever looked. When I tried to hug her, she pushed me away and started screaming at me, saying I ruined her life.

She wouldn't stop and even tried to hit me a few times.

Eventually, my parents realized there was something wrong and came to find out what was happening. When they appeared, Kimberly had calmed down just enough to throw what I thought was just a small plastic stick at my chest. I caught it before it fell to the floor, and when I looked at it, I saw a small plus sign on it.

I didn't understand at first. What fourteen-year-old boy would?

"I'm pregnant!" She screamed.

I thought my heart stopped, but I was still breathing.

I didn't understand how. We were always careful and always used condoms.

It was then that I remembered a particularly rushed night when she told me to forget about protection. Her parents were going to be home soon, and I wasn't even supposed to be there.

I know that I could've said no, but I was quite spineless at the time.

I will never forget the shock and disappointment that was etched onto my parents faces. I was supposed to be their golden child that didn't plan to have sex before marriage. Hell, I thought the same thing, but that's not how it went. I couldn't take it back either.

When I took her to the doctor the following Monday, we found out that she was about two months in and that the baby should be born around July.

Four months into it, Kimberly started talking about wanting an abortion so her life could go back to normal. I understood the desire to want things to go back to the way they were, but it didn't feel right to me. She started fighting me on it, but for once, I had a spine.

That's when we struck a deal: If she had the baby, she could leave right after to continue on with her life.

In the meantime, I was practically her slave. I did everything for her ranging from schoolwork to basic chores. When she started showing around six months, school was out, and she stayed hidden. No one at school knew she was pregnant except for my best friend and hers.

On the positive side of it, I felt myself getting excited at the prospect of having a kid. It wasn't a preferable situation, but I didn't care. I was going to do the best that I could. Mom was excited too. She even cleared out her old sewing room to be a room for the baby.

I started attending parenting classes and picked up babysitting so I could get some experience.

I had never been so excited about anything.

June was a rollercoaster. Three weeks before Kimberly's due date, her water broke. We rushed her to the hospital as fast as we could.

The sixteen hours I waited wordlessly by her side were the most nerve-wracking hours of my life, but at the end of it, I knew it was worth it when I heard the softest cry come out of the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen.

On June seventeenth, Tilisia Maria Akino was born.

I never believed in love at first sight until I saw her face all scrunched up and throwing a fit about being born. I held her for what felt like hours and I didn't want to let go.

She was six pounds and two ounces. Even though she wasn't quite premature, they kept her for a few days to make sure everything was fine. I barely slept in the time she remained at the hospital, but when they told me she was perfectly healthy and that I could take her home, I felt like I could run a marathon.

As for Kimberly, she held Tilisia one time before practically shoving her to me after only a few minutes.

The nurses didn't know of our arrangement, so they told me that it was postpartum depression and that it would pass. Truthfully, it was a mix of postpartum and general disdain.

I was hoping that if she saw Tilisia, she would change her mind, but she didn't.

She disappeared from the hospital the next day. No one could get a hold of her or her family.

Rumor has it, her parents had already moved to another state and that she was staying with a friend until she gave birth. That would explain why she stopped letting me meet her at her house.

For a while, I was worried about her. I stayed up wondering where she was and what she was doing. I prayed that she got help from someone and that she adjusted to wherever she was, but I knew I couldn't stay caught up on her.

I now had a baby that was depending on me to help her navigate this world that I brought her into.

And I was happy to oblige.