Books, Boys, and Basketball: Junior Year

MORAL SUPPORT

With Grams standing by to keep me compliant, I'm forced to allow officers to take photos of me. They then used those photos and my explanation of what unfolded between my dad and me against him. They lock him up on abuse charges.

The effort I put into trying to protect him was futile. Grams snitched and showed them my text history with her. My phone was confiscated, and the police used messages from both my mom and my friends against my dad to help prove their case.

I've never been more upset with Grams in my life. She tried talking to me after they arrested him, but I tuned her out. All I can think about is my dad and what might happen to him. But after my next therapy session, my thoughts shift from worrying about him to wondering why this is happening to us.

Why does he hate me so much?

What have I done to make him always react so violently?

I don't understand it. I mean, sure, I have a smart mouth... but what kid my age doesn't? Other fathers aren't reacting the way mine does. The only conclusion my mind can come up with, however, is that my father... the man partly responsible for creating me... the man who's supposed to love me and protect me from the world, hates me.

After a week of icing her out, I make peace with Grams. She was just trying to protect me, and I can't fault her for that. So, when I make it home after school, I sit down next to her on the sofa.

"Did you need something?" She asks, sweetly.

"My dad? How is he?"

"I won't lie to you, Kit-kat. It's not looking too good for him," she flashed me a half-hearted smile.

Tears fill my eyes, and I ball my hands into fists.

Why couldn't he just stop?

Why wouldn't he just let me go?

Shame and sorrow wash over me. My family is falling apart, and I feel like it's my fault. If I'd been a better daughter, my dad wouldn't be in jail right now.

Worried, Grams gives up her Zen days for the next couple of weeks to make sure I'm okay, and I have someone with me. But we don't talk about what happened. I thought maybe she'd given up on talking about it until she approaches me the day before I'm supposed to return to school. She sits me down at the kitchen table after making a slamming meal of smothered steak over rice and refuses to let me leave until I talk to her.

"I'm not interested in punishing your father, the law will take care of that. What I'm interested in is how you're doing with all of this. You're gonna go to school tomorrow and when you do many people are going to have a lot of questions, Kit-kat."

Slowly, I bring my eyes up to meet her gaze. I know she means well, but I'm scared. Now on top of my legal battle with Candor, the police want me to battle my dad in court, and I can't. But Grams is different. She cares about me and how I'm doing, and when she says she wants the best for me, I know she means it.

"I just want to know why he hates me so much. Ever since I was a little girl, it just seems like he liked Em and Josh better than he liked me. And whenever I think we're making headway something always takes us back ten spaces," I sulk.

"Your father loves you, he just has a hard time showing it."

"When will he ever not have a hard time?"

"I don't know, but I don't think his issue is with you. I believe his issues run deeper than that."

"You mean with you?" I ask.