The Neighbor

Chapter One: The Night He Left

Four scars for four people. One cut for my brother and one for my sister who made me do all their laundry, make all their food, clean their rooms, and other maid like jobs. One cut for my mother who constantly discouraged me and beat like there was no tomorrow. And one cut for my father who I used to greatly admire. All up to the day he left.

He was the only one that looked like me. My siblings and mother had tan skin, blue eyes, and light hair. My father and I had pale skin, dark eyes, and black hair. When I was with my father I felt like I belonged. But now that he's gone I feel misplaced. I still remember the night he left. It was two years ago, when I was twelve.

My parents were having a heated argument that I couldn't follow. I was too young to understand what "not enough money to pay the bills" and "Can't pay the mortgage" meant. I just sat on the couch like I was told and listened to the words that flew over my head. They yelled at each other for hours on end. I sat patiently. I knew that any moment now my mother would lock herself in her room and drink until she passed out. Then it would just be my father and I, downstairs on the couch. I was partially right. My mother stormed upstairs with a bottle of whiskey, but my father didn't follow the script.

"That's it, "he shouted, "I've had enough!" He grabbed a suitcase out of the closet that was apparently all ready packed. He opened the door and was about to step out, but I stopped him.

"Daddy, please don't go, "I begged.

"I'm sorry Danny, "he said, "but I can't stay here anymore."

"Take me with you, "I said.

"I can't, "he said, "but you listen to me. You stay strong. You don't take no bullshit from those idiots in there. You understand? And I promise I'll come back for you someday."

"Yes daddy, "I said tearily. He turned and walked off down the sidewalk. I watched him until he disappeared from my sight. I knew from that moment that I would never want to see him again. The man I used to look up to was nothing to me now but a sack of dirt.

Two years later and I was still making a cut for him. I wasn't strong anymore. I did everything and anything my siblings and mother demanded me to do. I was only fourteen years old and I already wanted my life to be over with. I wanted the pain in my back from the beatings to go away. I wanted to be free of duties like laundry and grocery shopping. I was tired of mowing the lawn in the intense Hawaiian heat. I just wanted it to all be over with. I just wanted to end it all. I just wanted to leave.