Daphne

3 // Daph Finds A Way Out

Listen to 1901 by Phoenix
    I woke up groggy, and with a swollen face. My eyelids were so puffy I could barely see from crying into my pillow before falling asleep. My dad and I got into this really intense fight and Mom came up. I remember him yelling that Mom would be so disappointed in me if she saw me today. All I did was come home a little late because I walked a friend home, but he took it to heart I guess. I miss Mom. I really do. She passed a couple months ago and it's making it impossible to tolerate my father. So I cried. A lot.

    I sat up and swung my legs out of my bed. I rubbed my eyes a bit and my dad burst into my room.

    "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

    "What?!" I shrieked. I couldn't say this situation was uncommon. 

    "You didn't shut off the kitchen lights after you left!"

    I sat there silently, in pure awe of what was happening. My mouth left ajar, my father continued to yell. Past this point I wasn't even there anymore. Not really. I was only half awake, and the pure confusion of not understanding why he was trying to make me feel like crap over a tiny accident left me...without enough effort to actually force myself to refocus on the present. After about 30 minutes of him going on about the stupid kitchen lights, he miraculously tired himself out of yelling. 

    I had been feeling really done with my situation for a while. I was never okay. I mean, how could I be? My father took every opportunity to take out his anger on me. And this wasn't just some bogus theory of mine. He always did it to my mom too, when she was alive. After she passed, it got much more worse. For every screaming match we got into, there was an incident at work or elsewhere behind it.

    I realized about a week ago that there was no point to this. Why was I even home anymore? It's not like I have anything left here anyways. My mom was the only reason I didn't get emancipated at 14. She was my rock. And now she's gone. So after an hour of reflection and maybe even some tears of exhaustion, I gathered all of my energy to get out of bed. I grabbed my old backpack from the top shelf of my closet and started to fold some of my clothing to shove inside it. As time went on I gained speed. I obviously didn't want to get caught doing this, and my door didn't have a lock, so I was riding on pure luck that my dad didn't come back into my room after the incident.

    I had made a list of all of my essentials a few days before, knowing that the current moment was impending. So I packed everything in a matter of a few minutes, and just sat there afterwards. Was I really going to do this? Charlie has always told me his mom would be okay with me living there since I got good grades and didn't do drugs or drink, though I always suspected the deciding factor was my lesbianism. She seemed to think Charlie was secretly a himbo, and the fact that I wasn't interested in being the focus of the male gaze was probably a very appealing prospect to her. But hey, she was nice enough to let me live with them, so why not? 

    My dad wasn't going to change. My mother had told me that repeatedly, always reminding me that my attempts to explain his own messed up perspective to himself was a futile effort.  So what could else could I do? Do I stay? Stick it out for another year and try to ignore my tiredness? Or do I leave, take a chance on Charlie and his mother, and most importantly, myself? Am I really ready to take the leap to be an adult without the safety net? I was almost positive my dad would aggressively disagree. 

    A thought occurred to me. I know I overthink. I was essentially diagnosed with 'think too much it hurts' disorder, so of course I was going to overthink to the point where I decide to just mope in my kiddie pool of self-pity. So most likely, it was the best option for me and I was just being, well, me. I guess this weird reverse psychology logic was enough to motivate me into doing it, because next thing I knew I was sitting in the living room with all of my belongings trying to choke out the words I knew would change my life pretty drastically. 

    The words came out soon enough. "I want to move out," I managed to force out after my dad noticed the bags sitting at my legs.

    "What? Where are you going to go?"

    "I'm moving in with Charlie. His mom already knows and said it was okay a while back."

    "...wait what? When did you talk to her?"

    "A few years ago actually. She offered after she realized we didn't have a good relationship."

    "I don't know what to say Daphne. If you leave, that's it. No more safety net. If you walk out that door, you're on your own and I'm not going to come running when something happens to you." 

    "I am aware of that. I really am. I just can't live here anymore."

    "Fine. Then just take your shit and leave. Don't come back begging for my forgiveness, because God knows I won't give it to you."

    I wiped some tears that had started to fall from my eyes. This was it. I picked up my bags and walked out the door. I walked down the street for a bit and called Charlie to have him and his mom pick me up and take me to his house. I was finally free, and not the kind of free where you stick your head out for a second to feel the wind on your face for a second to prevent you from internally exploding, but the kind of free where you don't know exactly what comes next and for once in your life, that's okay. To put it in movie terms, after a lifetime of being Cameron, I was finally Ferris Bueller. I could finally afford to do stupid crap now without being tar and feathered.

    "Annie?" I said softly to get Charlie's mom's attention.

    "Yeah?"

    "I just, wanted to say....thank you. For everything. I don't know what I'd do if it wasn't for you guys."

    "Oh Daph, don't worry about that just yet. Wait until you get your stuff unpacked at least," she chucked to herself.

    We got to Charlie's house and I soaked it all in. No one was ever going to wake me up my pulling my covers off and yelling at me again. I was safe. I was in charge of my own life. I'm guessing most seventeen year olds don't feel that way after their parents are taken away, but at this point I knew I wasn't most seventeen year olds. I was Daphne. And no one could take that away from me.

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Hey guys! Long time no see, huh? I felt some inspiration to write, so I decided to finish Chapter 3. Quite exciting for me, since I knew what this chapter was going to be since December of last year, and it's a subject near and dear to my heart. I really hope you guys like it, and if you want to read more, make sure to add my story to your library to see updates! Send me a message if you ever need a friend, or just to vent for a while. I'm always here. 

-Elliot :)