I'm doing 32 things
I had made a promise to a friend’s mother that I would drive them to work for a day (just one day) becasue her car had broke down; she was getting her car fixed. I did not have a car at that time, only access to one. I had told my mother about her situation, and asked for permission to borrow her car.
The next day, my brother had soccer practice and I had to go drop off my frind’s mother to work. While I was driving out, my mother told me not to go, and told me to wait. She then called my father, but I was long gone. On my way to drop off my brother, I received a phone call from my father. He told me to turn the car around and if I didn’t that I shouldn’t come back home. He then told me to come home, and then leave. I was thinking to myself, why the hell would I do that?
I dropped my brother off about 3-5 miles from my practice, and gave him my cell phone, I told hi to call his coach, and pick him up on the way to practice. It turns out, that BOTH the coach and the assistant coaches did NOT show up to practice… My brother was alone at Home Depot. Turns out, my dad went and picked him up, and I made-up with my brother. My dad on the other hand, was furious with me for selling out my family for someone else’s. This was not the case and I was in good-standing with my brother.
I went and picked up my friend’s mother, and then dropped her off to work. I then went to hang out with my friend.
At night, I went to stay at another friend’s house, and went to school in the morning. I took a shower at my gym and then went to my house to pick up some things. I was confronted with my father at home and he did not let me leave with the car that I came with (a two year old Dodge Stratus). He left me alone in the house. I had a college class in 30 minutes. I had no choice but to take the 20+ year old Maxima…
Needless to say, it broke-down on the way to school. I walked, and ran over two miles in the scorching, humid-filled heat to get to my class. I arrived 45 minutes late to class, and missed to quizes (which my bitch-ass teacher did not let me make-up). After I hung-out at school for a few hours, I was confronted once again by my rabid father.
We faught for a while outside the school. It was the famous: ‘You’ll live in my house under my rules’ speech. I was like, WTF, live… in your house??? AHAHA….
I then told him about how I could find a place to stay in a heartbeat, and a whole bunch of my friends are offering me a place to stay anyway… This pissed him off even more. Anyway I decided to come back home, acting like I was going to be an ‘obidient little 10 year old’.
The car ride home, (which usually takes about 15 mins) was the longest car ride in my life. There wasn’t a horrible thing that my father forget to say to me. I was calm throughout the conversation, but I also said some hurtful things. What pissed him off a little more, was that I sent one of my friends (who had promised to let me stay at his place) a text message. I told him that I had a place for TONIGHT. After that message, he began to through slurs at me, which ended in his disownment of me as his son. This did not really phase me as much as I thought it would…
I went directly to the basement not talking to my father, and I began to study.
The next morning, something strage happened… My father came down to the basement, and tried very hard to wake me up. This was odd becasue my father does not really try very hard to wake me up in the morning, he might say a couple of words like “get up” and then leave. Hours later, when you do wake up, he would say, ‘Oh, I tried very hard, but you just wouldn’t get up. This morning was different though… He was certain that I would get up, I was resiliant to his loud roaring, and I refused to get up. After this comment, he kicked me out once again. He told me not to be in ‘his house’ by the time he got back from work.
A few hours later, my uncle called me. He asked me if I wanted to hang out. I said of course. He told me to ‘ready my things’ by the time he got to my parents’ home. He asked me what time he should come and pick me up, and I told him the exact same time as when my father arrived home. When my uncle arrived, I slowed my moving down, and waited for my dad to come home…
When my dad did arrive, I picked up my bags, and ran to my uncle’s car. I gave him a semi-warm hug. The impression on my face, allong with my body language, purposely imitated that of one finally escaping from years of forced oppression and aggression. I stayed with my uncle for a few weeks (a little over a month).
Now I have my own place. It was hard, its still hard, it will always be hard. But its not oppression, and its certainly better than the hell I was living with.
MOVE OUT. Its your only option for freedom, its your only way to breath.
Move out.
—TekBoi
