Childhood trauma.

The big move

Can you name a day in British history it hasn't rained? Me neither but that doesn't matter to me because I love London! It's in my blood, literally. I'm half British half American and 'so lucky' according to my friends. Personally I don't see it, I hate everything to do with America. This must of started when I was a little girl, my dad tells me loads of stories about my mum and how all she ever wanted was to take me away from dad and live in La California. That's why he divorced my mum, got a restraining order as well. Not just for him but for me, I can't be around her at all.

The cold wind blows through my beige trench coat and blows my school skirt up. I tell myself "Five minutes away, just five more minutes." Small beads of water come down my clear umbrella and fall onto my worn out black school shoes. Finally, I reach for my keys and open the door. To my surprise it's not locked. Dad must be home. "I'm home, sorry I'm back a little later than usual I stayed back an extra hour to finish my art piece." I say while putting my umbrella in the rack by our door and hanging my coat up. 

No answer? "Dad?" Cautiously I walk into the living room. The smell of beer and sweat fills my lungs. The table by dads favorite chair is pilled with beer cans and bottles, the TV is still on the match of the day which means he had his friends over to watch the match of the day. You would think I'd be used to this by now, really I'm still learning. I turn off the TV and call him to see if he answers only to be put through to voicemail. I manage to fill a whole black bag with cans and bottles and take the bag outside. All I can really do now is wait for dad to come home, he usually spends the whole night at the pub. I'd go get him myself but it's over 18's there and I'm only 17. By this point hours have passed and all I want to do is sleep, so I sleep on the sofa so I know when he comes back.

The next morning, there's a loud knock at the door. My head arises like a turtle. "Dad! He's home!" I fall off the sofa and land on my arm but that doesn't stop me. "Dad, I got so worried I mean this has happened before bu.." I interrupt myself upon opening the door and seeing the visitors at the door. Two police officers the male in a bright yellow vest with a stun gun and walkie talkie. Next to him a woman dressed smartly in a pantsuit carrying a folder. My heart sinks and questions and ideas pop into my head.

"Can I help you?" The female officer turns her head to the right and nods at the male officer. "Miss Lorraine Ella Jones I am sorry to say your father was found passed out on the floor of your local pub last night where he was then taken to hospital and I'm afraid he didn't make it through the night." Suddenly the male officer speaks up "I know this is a difficult time but, may we come in?" I nod and open the door just wide enough for them to squeeze through, my arm extends and leads them into the living room.

"Um can I get you something to drink? tea, coffee?" Unable to think of what else to say. "No, but thank you." the female officer says speaking for both of them. "You may want to take a seat." I follow her instruction and sit in the chair dad would sit in. Finally the male officer speaks. "Last night during the hours of 10 PM your father had passed out after over consuming the recommended amount of alcohol. He had been rushed to hospital where he was diagnosed with alcohol poisoning and I'm afraid he didn't make it through the night." It suddenly becomes hard to breath, my checks feel full and then the tears come and make me feel as if I'm drowning.

"Now there is one small matter of who will take care of you, I understand from your record of history you and your mother aren't that close however, your records tell me you have a care worker. Is this true?" I nod. "Is it possible to get in contact with her?" Sniffling. "I can call her" I say gesturing to the phone. "Please take your time." The female officer says in a soothing voice.

Standing up felt like I had only just learnt how to walk. My fingers fumble as I dial the number for Molly. One ring passes, two rings and now three and then, "Hello, Lorraine is that you?" "Molly, it's daddy he's.. he." Words struggle to leave my mouth in a clear tone, intead I just sound like a child using a phone for the first time. "I think you're breaking up, Lorraine what's the matter? Are you hurt? Lorraine speak to me."

"Daddy, he he's dead..." Horrible sounds of bawling my eyes out go down the phone when I feel something rubbing my arms, it's the female officer. "Let me talk to her." She smiles and I hand her the phone. "Hello my name is officer Sarah Hartfield, I'm here with miss Lorraine Ella Jones and my partner Barron Jacobs dissucing the deceased father Mr Alfie Aaron Jones I understand you are miss Lorraine's care worker, is it possible for you to come over?" "Oh my goodness, I'll be over right away." They both hang up the phone and Sarah insists I sit down for the remaining time it takes Molly to get here.

*Knock knock*

Sarah insists that she goes but I really wanted to see Molly. The anticipation of the front door opening kills me, before I know it my arms are already wrapped around Molly like a safety blanket. "Molly!" I mumble into her shoulder. "Shh it's ok, everything is going to ok I promise." In the front room I sit awkwardly on Molly's lap opposite the officers containing a shit tone of hurt.

"Hello my name is Molly Patricia Smith and as you said on the phone I am Lorraine's care worker, her mother insisted on hiring me to take care of Rain had something happen to her father." Sarah speaks up "That's not what our records tell us." "What do you mean?" Molly asks. "According to the restraining order if Lorraine's father should become heavily intoxicated, severely injured or deceased I Serena Careen Smith will take in custody my daughter until she is legally allowed to move out at the age of eighteen." Have my ears started to bleed? Live with my mother in LA California?

"No, no no no no!" "Rain, calm down we can sort th-" I interrupt. "There is no way I am living with my mother! She tried to take me away from my dad, no just no!" I spit the word "No" out like poisonous venom. "Now now miss Rain it is a signed contract even your father agreed upon, look this is his signature I take it?" She pointed where it was clearly marked with his writing.

I look up at Molly. "They can't do this can they?" Without anything else to say one word leaves Molly's mouth. "Sorry." I can feel my heart beat fast, my palms begin to sweat and my eyes grow wide. "NO! you can't make me!" I scream to get my point across. Finally the officer Barron stands up. "We are terribly sorry for your loss however our hands are tied here, we will get in contact with your mother and she will pay for you to fly to LA. In the mean time all we can do is recommend a good funeral service for your father to get the goodbye's he deserves." He looks over at Sarah as she rises from her seat. "Four weeks from today you will be on a plane to America, this will give you enough time to pack and say goodbye for your father."

Could this be right? In less then a month I'll be in another country and with my mother.