The Cafe Across the Street

Part 11

the next morning (Claire's P.O.V)

"Honey, are you okay?" questioned my mother through my bedroom door.

"Mom, I'm fine. I really don't want to talk right now," I said trying to keep myself from breaking down.

She peeked into my bedroom and saw me sitting on my bed with a wide smile plastered onto my face. 

"See I'm okay," I lied. My mother smiled half halfheartedly and shut the door.

My dad is such an idiot. Why did he have to do this to us, to my mom, my siblings, to me? To leave me fatherless out of a stupid grudge.

Last night, a lot of things were said. Lately my parents have been arguing over the same topic. Religion. My mother is a Jehovah's Witness, my father, a strict Catholic. To me they are the same, they're both Christian religions, right? Why can't they get over the subject already. I found that my father, because he left his family behind in Mexico to form a family with my mother in America, has a lot of trouble forgetting the things his parents had taught him to believe in. My mother was not always a Witness, she grew up in the catholic religion as well, she was expelled when she had yours truly, though she always taught me bible principles during the time she was expelled. 

Recently she had become a Witness again after 16 years. Sixteen years. It took her that long leave her life of reckless partying. Yep that was my mom. I feel like our family gets along much better,Now that's she's back. Now there's  less arguments between my mother and I, she's developed a more patient attitude towards me, and I feel respected again.  Things have been going pretty good, though I never baptized yet, I believed I lived in the truth, many may disagree, including my father. It felt right going to meetings and bonding with the brothers and sisters, I finally felt like life wasn't complete garbage.

 As we started attending more meetings, my father started to complain there was never food in the house,  he would say, "Why do I have a wife if she isn't even going to attend me?". I hated how he still lived by those stereotypes, being a female, sometimes he made me feel all I was ever going to achieve in life was become a mom with six kids who was only good for cleaning and cooking for my husband. I hated being a girl, so I wanted to be a boy. Though I was a bit scared. I had a reputation of posting things online and exposing others, a lot of people actually, I didn't want them all to turn against me. I gradually attended less and less meetings until I didn't go anymore. I never found other girls attractive, I guess that means I'm straight, But I stopped referring to myself as a female a long time ago, I just didn't want to live the life my father had made me believe I was meant to live. 

I still loved him, he was my father. Sometimes friend, sometimes foe, but we've had just as many good times as bad. He was mad at my mother for attending meetings, even after she cooked him meals after a long day of hard labor at the factory. I was proud of how determined she was to go to meetings. She could've told me to start cooking since I'm home all day, but she never put that task on me. If I tried to help she'd tell me to go study instead. 

Yesterday, he blew up. He had shoved my mother, which shocked all of us because he was never the violent type. He yelled at her for her religion, that made me angry, everyone has the right to believe what they want, just because she was the wife meant everything he told her to do was law? I don't think so, at least not past me. I shoved him back, he was drunk, and he slapped me. He drove of to the strip club with the moron of my neighbor, his best friend, Mike. Now, it was 5:30 a.m. and he was sitting in prison probably waiting to be deported. He was so selfish, my mom doesn't ask for anything more than to attend meetings, and he just can't let her have that.

We're moving out now, with other family in Tennessee.