Chapter One of story. Using for a Comp. 2 creative paper. |
Chapter One “I remember the day it all happened; I remember the days prior too, beginning with her return from rehab…” These were the words I spoke at her funeral. My own mother had died just one week after returning from rehab, from none other than alcohol poisoning. Let me rewind a little and tell you from the start exactly what happened… I hadn’t seen my mother in what seemed like ages. Generally it was her that served as the mediator between my father and his clients, but now it was my job. There was a password to enter the door, no one except his clients were allowed inside. My social life was shot and I was only twelve years old… My name is Ralph, my father just calls me asshole, and my mom, well I had forgotten what she called me because I hadn’t seen her in such an excruciatingly long period of time. The day she came back, I thought everything was going to be getting better, but it did just the opposite. “Scott, I am home, let me in!” A somewhat familiar voice was banging on the door. My father’s name was Scott, but he was in the basement cooking. I asked for the password, but there was no answer. The violent banging continued until finally my father came upstairs. “Hey asshole, what is this banging all about?” My dad questioned me. “Umm… I don’t know, the voice sounded familiar, but they didn’t know the password, so I didn’t let them in…” At that point, I was interrupted by the banging. “Scott, you know exactly who this is, now let me in the house.” The familiar voice called from the door. “Alright, alright, quit banging on the door, you stupid bitch.” My father called as he proceeded to unlock all the locks on the door. My mother stomped through the door and slapped my father across the face. “You ignorant dick! How could you be so vain to make your own child your slave!” Just as my mother was continuing her rant, my father pushed her into a wall, sending a huge boom throughout the whole house; he pulled a booklet out of his pocket and threw it at her, hitting her in the face. She opened the booklet, inside was a check for five hundred thousand dollars and two plane tickets, one way, to a place neither of us had ever heard of. He then walked away, told her she had until noon to get out. It was already 10:30. My father was enraged, and my mother crying rivers in the front room. I went to my room to pack. I knew this was going to be the end. I went to my closet and got a bag, the same one my father used on a weekly basis to make his deliveries. When I opened it there was a note inside of it: Son, I know that you may not understand what exactly is going on, and I know that at this point, your opinion of me is far from great. I know that I will have to live with knowing that for the rest of my life, but as long as I know that you are safe, I will at least be able to live with myself. I know that your mother hasn’t been there for much of your life, and I want you to know that it’s not her fault. She does love you. I also want you to understand that the likelihood of her surviving this destination I have chosen for your departure is far from likely. I know that you are far to young to totally comprehend what it is that I am telling you, but hopefully you will find someone that will be able to translate this letter for you. I wish you the best of luck. If you ever need anything just know that there is a list of names for you in the side pocket, along with an additional large sum of money. You will not see me again until your mother wises up, until your mother dies, or you turn eighteen. Having you all present in the house with my lab is just no longer ideal, especially with her nature and past. Don’t think that I don’t love you. I have done all of this for you and her. Love, Scott I packed my bag filled with all of my clothes, leaving the note at the bottom. My mother came into my room about an hour later and told me that we were leaving. Her eyes were black, tears rolling down her cheeks she grabbed my hand and guided me to the taxi. After the bags were put into the trunk we got inside. She told the taxi driver the location on the booklet and off we went, never to return to the place I had called home. I don’t remember much about the flight or even all the people we may have talked to from layover to layover. What I do remember was the lack of vibrancy upon our arrival. Nothing but shades of grey… A man by the name of Paco greeted us off the plane, he grabbed our luggage and put it into the back of a white car, a car that seemed so appealling from the outside, but the inside was filled with nothing but temptation, especially for my mother. The car reeked of the smell of alcohol and drugs, something I was used to smelling, being as though my father is at one end, and my mother the other. I was still too young to comprehend it all. Paco pulled the car into the driveway of a nasty brown colored house. He helped us get out and take out bags inside. He told us that under order of Scott he was to watch us, to reside in the house at all times and that we were not allowed to leave. My mother told him that he was free to leave, that Scott was not here and that she was to be able to do her own activities. “As you wish madam, but Scott…” My mother interrupted Paco before he could finish by pushing him out of the door. We heard the engine of the white car roar and away Paco went, never to be seen again. Shortly after Paco had left my mother left as well. I asked her where she was going and she simply told me she didn’t know, but that she may or may not be back for dinner, that I just need to fend for myself. I decided to go to bed. I finally had fallen asleep maybe an hour after I had found my bed. I drifted into a dreamland… |