All week I have been terrified about coming to my dad's house this weekend. All four one reason. It had been over eight weeks since I'd seen my step mom, and because of past experiences I have been wondering what could possibly go wrong now. I wonder now if me thinking about that could have in any way cause what happened tonight?
Probably not, but who knows.
My step mom is not a good person. She's bipolar, and yet she refuses to take medication. She's an alcoholic and even though my dad told her if she was ever drunk in front of one of us he'd leave her she was drunk in front of my older half sister this summer, and he left her for about a week before he went back.
I think I know why he did that now.
My mom told me fairly recently that my dad didn't have any money because he put it all in an account with Smelli's (my step mom) name on it when he was trying to hide his money from the government when he went to court to try to get rid of the alamony he was paying my mom about a year ago or so.
Smelli refuses to give the money back, and so my dad is having financial problems right now because he is having a hard time getting some programming done for a company he is working for, and they won't pay him until it's completely done and running. So the only way my dad has money is if he either borrows it from his parents, or stays with Smelli.
This is all just what I think is going on, but I've been analyzing the things my mom and dad have told me along with their actions since I was about five or six years old.
Izzi and I, mostly Izzi, but I could've figured it out too if I heard as much as she did, figured out my parents were getting divorced when we were about eight. It was a long time before they found out we knew.
This brings me to an interesting thought. Have you ever noticed that older children get the most responsiblility of all the children in a family? They are trusted with knowing things that they can't yet handle, and by the time their parents figure this out it's already too late for them.
I remember one fourth of July my mom was upset about something. We were at home and my step dad was doing fireworks with my three younger sisters in our front yard. I think my mom was upset because of something my dad did. I can't remember what it was now, because that is not even close to the most important thing that happened to me that night. A lot of things happened that night, but the things my mom told me that she thought I was finally old enough to know are the things I remember more than anything else.
I don't know if Izzi even remembers that night, but I know I could never forget it. I found out some incredibly terrible things, and I don't know if I could handle them even now if I were to hear them for the first time. There's just some things a girl should never learn about her father.
If you're wondering what these things are... Too bad. There is no way I am posting them on the internet.
Back to what happened though.
This weekend it was just me and my two littlest sister (identical twins), Bird and Bear. I was so afraid that something was going to happen that I was crying when I left my house. My mom told me there was nothing to worry about, and so I didn't worry. I didn't worry at all.
That's something I did wrong. I knew there was reason to worry. Reason to be cautious, and yet I threw all that out of the window because I knew that mom was always right. My mama bear. I just wish I could have one of her hugs right now.
My dad took my sisters and I up to my grandmas to see if we could put up a tent as practice for when we're going to Lake Powell in a couple of weeks. That was fun. I spent the entire time taking pictures trying out new angles and working with the camera I borrowed from Mrs. Barney for the weekend. It was awesome, and as we drove home (to my dad's) I was sure the rest of the evening would be just as great. We were going to watch a movie and eat ice cream and hang out. It was going to be "just like the good old days".
Then we got home.
As usual dinner was on the table, and Smellie was sitting in her chair in the living room watching tv, her evil cat sitting on her lap. We all washed our hands and went in to sit at the table to eat our spaghetti. Smelli didn't eat with us. She never does.
We talked while we ate. We looked through movies trying to decide which one to watch. After we were all done eating me and my sisters went into the kitchen (which barely fits three people), and we put all our dishes where they needed to go. We stayed in the kitchen as we began to hear Smelli and my dad fighting. This wasn't unusual to us. It's a constant. They always fight, and that's why I was scared to go.
When they started yelling I told the girls to come upstairs with me so we could get out of the room. We went upstairs and were trying to get settled. We sat on "my bed" which is really the guest bed, and were about to turn on the tv.
"Girls, get your stuff. We're going back to Grandma's." my dad yelled at us, and we only payed attention to the yelling because we heard him say girls.
We were used to this rutine. We all quickly grabbed our bags and hurried down to the car. We got in, and my dad went back towards the house to get something. This was normal too. He almost always remembered something else he needed right before we left. But this time was different. When he got to the door it was locked. "Nice." he yelled at her, and I could tell she was on the other side of the door. Something slammed against the glass, and I winced.
"GET OUT OF MY SPACE!!! GET OUT OF MY SPACE!!!" She screamed at him as we all sat in the car. He shook his head angrily and went to open the garage door to get inside. It was locked too.
Then we left.
The car we had to take was broken. The old minivan always overheats, and I was sure we weren't going to make it there. We were ok though. We made it here, and I called my mom, and I cried as I talked to her.
I really wish my Mama Bear could hug me right now. I know that sounds stupid, but you don't understand how hard this is on me. I hate when this happens.
My mom promised me it won't ever happen again.
But I'm still scared.
I've learned now never to stop being cautious. At least when it comes to situations like this. My little sisters don't seem to have any problems with what is going on. It hurts me to think that they must be as hurt as I am. They are just as good as I am at hiding my feelings about these kind of things.
I've got to make it look like this isn't as bad as it is. I can't believe they have to deal with this stuff. It's sad. They're only ten. They don't deserve this.
Well I've got to go make sure my little Bird, and my baby Bear are alright. I guess I'll just have to live with it for now.
She won't ruin my life.
I won't let that happen.
I can't.
