Status: Will be updating as soon as possible.
I'm Just A Kid
Chapter-7
Father had got a new truck when I was in the 3rd grade. A silver Ram 2500. I loved it, but barely got to be in it. Father only drove me somewhere when there was no possible way Mother could.
I opened the back door, and threw in my bag. “No, come sit up front.” he said. I was going ask “Do I have to?” but I didn't bother. I grabbed my bag and shut the door. I opened the passenger door and placed my bag where my feet would go, and jumped inside.
Before Father even started the truck he took out a cigarette from his pocket. “Can you wait.” I asked, not even looking at him. I hated when he smoked around me, it was so disgusting. He paused, and didn't respond. There was a silence, but not necessarily an awkward one. “Please.” I finally said, “Can you please just wait ten minutes until I'm out of the car.” I asked him with my eyes closed shut.
I opened my eyes to see him placing the cigarette back into package. I wasn't going to say 'Thank you' he didn't even deserve the 'Please.'
He started the truck seeming agitated. I don't know why he actually did what I asked him to do, it's not like he cared what I wanted. I placed my elbow by the window and stared at the outside of my house as he started driving down our driveway.
“So-” Father started to say. “Don't talk.” I said almost too loud, “it's not necessary.” I looked over at him, he looked like I had actually hurt his feelings. I didn't care.
About five minutes went by, I was starting to get curious. “Why couldn't I ride the bus?” I asked, actually looking at him while I spoke. “Well I wanted to talk to you, but if you'd rather I not.” he said. He really looked like I had hurt his feelings, like he really wanted to talk to me. I wasn't ready to talk about forgiveness.
“Then let's talk,” I told him slowly, “We only have like three minutes left.” I said while I pushed my bangs to the side, even though they didn't stay there.
“Well,” he started to say slowly, “I don't really even know where to start.” He turned on his blinker to turn left. “How about why you're driving me to school, when I'm perfectly fine with riding the bus?” I said. “To talk.” he said. “About what, I think it would be easier if you just came out and said what you need to say, I promise I won't interrupt; I will listen.” I told him.
“The abuse.” he said. I slowly looked away from him, and back out the window. I didn't really want to hear more... but I did promise I wouldn't interrupt.
“It's my fault...” he continued. “I know, but if this is you attempting to apologize, just stop.” I told him. He shook his head, “This isn't really an apology, it's more of an explanation.” he told me.
I told myself to be quiet, he might actually say something I would want to hear.
He pulled into the school parking lot. I looked at the time, 7:15, “It's alright, I have time,” I told him, “school doesn't start until 8:20.” Even though I hated this man, I wanted to give him a chance, I was willing to make things better, because there was no way they could get worse.
“We can talk when I get home, you can go talk to your friends.” he said as he stopped the truck. I tried not to laugh, “Dad.” I was shocked, I had actually called him Dad, I hadn't respected him enough to call him that for years. He was already looking at me when I turned my head to look at him, but then looked out the window when I tried to look him in the eyes. “What?” he said. “I don't have friends.” I said, still shocked I had called him Dad.
He looked back at me, and I turned away. “So... how are you doing in school?” he asked. “I don't wanna talk about school alright, I just want you to say what you need to say and then I can leave, and I'm going to be busy after school, so we can't talk about this then.” I said as I remembered I was supposed to meet Jordan at his house. “Alright, Alright.” he said, “but I really think we should talk about all this later, this isn't the right time, and I'm not sure if we have enough time to talk right now, you really should get inside.” When he finished talking, I had the feeling that he just wanted to put off talking to me, like he was uncomfortable about it, but at the same time I felt it was important for him to tell me now, not wait until later.
“We have an hour, start talking.”
I opened the back door, and threw in my bag. “No, come sit up front.” he said. I was going ask “Do I have to?” but I didn't bother. I grabbed my bag and shut the door. I opened the passenger door and placed my bag where my feet would go, and jumped inside.
Before Father even started the truck he took out a cigarette from his pocket. “Can you wait.” I asked, not even looking at him. I hated when he smoked around me, it was so disgusting. He paused, and didn't respond. There was a silence, but not necessarily an awkward one. “Please.” I finally said, “Can you please just wait ten minutes until I'm out of the car.” I asked him with my eyes closed shut.
I opened my eyes to see him placing the cigarette back into package. I wasn't going to say 'Thank you' he didn't even deserve the 'Please.'
He started the truck seeming agitated. I don't know why he actually did what I asked him to do, it's not like he cared what I wanted. I placed my elbow by the window and stared at the outside of my house as he started driving down our driveway.
“So-” Father started to say. “Don't talk.” I said almost too loud, “it's not necessary.” I looked over at him, he looked like I had actually hurt his feelings. I didn't care.
About five minutes went by, I was starting to get curious. “Why couldn't I ride the bus?” I asked, actually looking at him while I spoke. “Well I wanted to talk to you, but if you'd rather I not.” he said. He really looked like I had hurt his feelings, like he really wanted to talk to me. I wasn't ready to talk about forgiveness.
“Then let's talk,” I told him slowly, “We only have like three minutes left.” I said while I pushed my bangs to the side, even though they didn't stay there.
“Well,” he started to say slowly, “I don't really even know where to start.” He turned on his blinker to turn left. “How about why you're driving me to school, when I'm perfectly fine with riding the bus?” I said. “To talk.” he said. “About what, I think it would be easier if you just came out and said what you need to say, I promise I won't interrupt; I will listen.” I told him.
“The abuse.” he said. I slowly looked away from him, and back out the window. I didn't really want to hear more... but I did promise I wouldn't interrupt.
“It's my fault...” he continued. “I know, but if this is you attempting to apologize, just stop.” I told him. He shook his head, “This isn't really an apology, it's more of an explanation.” he told me.
I told myself to be quiet, he might actually say something I would want to hear.
He pulled into the school parking lot. I looked at the time, 7:15, “It's alright, I have time,” I told him, “school doesn't start until 8:20.” Even though I hated this man, I wanted to give him a chance, I was willing to make things better, because there was no way they could get worse.
“We can talk when I get home, you can go talk to your friends.” he said as he stopped the truck. I tried not to laugh, “Dad.” I was shocked, I had actually called him Dad, I hadn't respected him enough to call him that for years. He was already looking at me when I turned my head to look at him, but then looked out the window when I tried to look him in the eyes. “What?” he said. “I don't have friends.” I said, still shocked I had called him Dad.
He looked back at me, and I turned away. “So... how are you doing in school?” he asked. “I don't wanna talk about school alright, I just want you to say what you need to say and then I can leave, and I'm going to be busy after school, so we can't talk about this then.” I said as I remembered I was supposed to meet Jordan at his house. “Alright, Alright.” he said, “but I really think we should talk about all this later, this isn't the right time, and I'm not sure if we have enough time to talk right now, you really should get inside.” When he finished talking, I had the feeling that he just wanted to put off talking to me, like he was uncomfortable about it, but at the same time I felt it was important for him to tell me now, not wait until later.
“We have an hour, start talking.”