The Locker Diary

Chapter 3 - Memories, Flashbacks, and Good-Bye

Emily P.O.V

        I really wasn’t too excited moving into North Chester. I had a pretty decent life in the big NYC, until my pathetic, verbally abusive mother decided to become an alcoholic, go to my school, and create chaos. That’s when it got the attention of social workers. They were already checking up on my mother making sure she was treating me right, but this was the last straw.

        In the blink of an eye my whole world changed. The social workers took away everything from me. Don’t get me wrong I agree my mother shouldn’t be the legal guardian of any child when she can’t even take care of herself. But what the social workers did wasn’t fair to me. They took away my house, my mother, my life, and even my dog. I didn’t want to leave the city where I was raised, but I had no say in any of it. If only I wasn’t sixteen but two years older, then I would have the right to make my own decisions. Why Mother couldn’t you hold your last blow out ‘til senior year?

Saying good-bye to NYC was the hardest. I visited my father’s grave one last time.

        My father and I were inseparable. You could say we had a better relationship than me and my mother did, but still, I do not judge her for the mistakes she made. My father always took me to school, he went to those school meetings, he watched my softball games, and he acted like any parent should act. My mother on the other hand had a little trouble being a parent. For one, she did not know what the definition of being a parent was and two she spent all of her time with Jose Cuervo. My mother had a drinking affair with him. I despised that man with all of my heart and wondered what my father did to deserve such a horrid betrayal.

        One day my father reached a turning point in his life. He realized he was sick and tired of being the other man. He did not want to share my mother with Jose Cuervo, so he left. My father promised me that he would never stop visiting me, and he didn’t for a long time. But like anything my mother touched she destroyed it. My mother received full custody and my father was left with a bill every month called “child support”. My father couldn’t do anything about those events. He could not change my mother’s deranged mind.

        Although he couldn’t keep his promise he wrote me letters. Letters didn’t mean the same as his presence would, but it comforted me to know he still cared. Honestly out of all the demented things my mother did I only held resentment for one, this one. I don’t hate her, but when she separated me from my father, the love that I had towards her completely vanished into molecules only visible through a microscope. You would think that moving away from my mother is the best thing that has ever happened, but it’s not really. She is the only person I have, but I guess it might be for the better.

Good-bye big buildings, shining lights, crazy people, and coffee shops. Good-bye life. Farewell New York City.

...Three hours later (on the road)

I hate road trips. It makes me feel nauseated and very dizzy. It’s a good thing this horrible nightmare is almost over.

            “Are you feeling better?” Mary asked. She was one of the social workers.

            “Yes ma’am I am,” I responded feeling irritated.

        They’ve been asking me that question the whole three hour car drive. I don’t know about them but when someone’s vomiting and making noises like they’re going to die, they are definitely not okay. It was stupidity to ask such an obvious question. But I rarely spoke about my angry towards this question because I didn’t want to be classified as “rude”.