Plummet

Aren’t birthdays supposed to be happy things? At least, when you’re young they are. But my mom, she kicked me out of the house.

I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t.

I woke up and groggily looked around my room, that morning. And was startled into being truly awake when I saw that nearly everything I owned was packed into boxes. Mom was working on the things still unpacked- throwing them around without a care as to whether they were breakable, or whether it actually made sense to put them in the box they belonged in.

“What’s going on?” I demanded.

“You’re moving out,” she answered without looking at me. “And now that you’re up, you can finish packing your things on your own. You’re an adult now; you don’t need your mommy to do it for you.

I sat there, stunned, and looked around at what was left of my room.

Moving out? I thought blankly. It took a while for that to register. I was just… surprised. Sure, Mom wasn’t the most maternal parent ever, but she was still my mother. Why was she doing this?

But where would I go?

It was this thought that startled me into action. I picked up my phone and called the only person who might be there for me.

“Dad?” I asked tentatively when the ringing stopped. He sort of grunted and for the first time I remembered the three-hour time difference. It would be four in the morning there. Oops. “Sorry about calling so early. I just…” And there I embarrassed myself by bursting into tears.

“Daddy,” I choked out, feeling more like a little girl than I ever had in my life, “Can I come stay with you?”

“Why? What’s going on, Princess?”

“I just need somewhere to live. I’ll explain more later,” I answered, taking deep breaths. I didn’t know that I could handle an explanation just then without bursting into tears all over again.

And so it was that I found myself on a plane to Washington.