Trophy Fathers, Trophy Son

I had a plan you know. I was going to go unseen. Fade into the background. Stay out of everybody’s way. Finish high school and be done. But did I stick to that plan? Hell no. I found myself in love with someone I had no business being in love with. Karma’s a bitch though, right?

It was the day we were finally moving. From a small town in Michigan to the big city San Diego. I honestly didn’t know what to expect. All I did know was I was one unhappy boy. I felt like I was being torn from my friends who had become my only family. My small town being thrown away. I was being forced to discover new scenery. I was leaving and starting over, in the middle of the school year at that! I needed Michigan, everyone one of my friends who helped me though everything, I needed them.

After my mom left us about two months ago, my dad decided that going back to his home state was “best” for us. Like hell. Best for whom? Him! That’s fucking who. He couldnt live in Michigan anymore because people began to realize what was happening. He couldnt lie anymore to them. I didn’t want to leave though. I didn’t want to leave Michigan. My friends. My escape. My everything for fucks sake! As we start to drive away, I feel a tear rush down my cheek. I quickly brushed it away, praying my dad hadn’t seen. My stomach began to instantly cringe. I needed to push this aside. I had too.

“I dear you to cry Kellin. Fucking faggot” My father hissed. “Why the hell didn’t your mommy just take you with her?!” He said in a vicious tone.

I simply put my head phones in and turned up the music volume as loud as possible, not even giving him a response. I turned me phone on ‘music only’, I didn’t need any of my friends texting me how much their going to “miss me”. I couldn’t handle that right now. Why couldn’t my dad have just left me alone. I could have lived with Justin or hell even Jesse. Or better yet, why couldn’t my mom have just taken me with her?

As we passed the ‘Welcome to Michigan’ sign I almost broke down. I couldn’t though. I know my dad wanted me to break down, and I just couldn’t. I know he was doing this on purpose. He beat my mom until she finally left. I have grown to know his beatings. I try my hardest not to step over the line with him, but I always do. They came usually when he drank, which was all day every day since he was fired from his job. I deserve it though sometimes, when I misbehave. I’m happy my mom left though, I am so thankful she got away. I could handle it. I may be small and skinny, but I could. But she couldn’t. Not anymore.

Only my few close friends ever knew what happend behind the wall of my old house. My dad has gotten smart about where he hits me. Knowing only to hit me where it could be covered up from noise teachers. He would say “Tell someone and you’ll get it 10 times worse”. I honestly don’t know how it could get worse. I knew the excuses I had to use if my dad had ever slipped up and left a bruise visible. “No, I just fell in the shower. I’m so clumsy at times I swear” or my personal favorite “I was riding my bike (I didn’t even own one) and totally flipped out.” It was easy to lie to people, and that’s just what I will do in this new place.

After about seven hours of driving, we pull up to a gas station, where I had a quick thought of jumping out at pretending to have a heart attack, just to delay this move. But I knew it would result in a tremendous beating. We pulled into where you pump gas. I spoke “I’m going to go to the restroom”

“You will wait for me.” He said in a demanding tone as he got out to pump the gas.

I furrowed my brows, immediately got out of the car in rage and began walking towards the small store. I had no idea what was going through my head.

My dad, quick to protest “I said you will wait for me!” He shouted from across the car.

I looked back at him, smirked and spat, “I’m a big boy I think I can walk myself to the piss room” I turned and began to walk again.

What the fuck was I honestly thinking? Maybe he wouldn’t do anything? Maybe he would and someone would see and take me away from him? I never intentionally tested him, but for some god offal reason I did today.

I instantly heard footsteps behind me and he grabbed my wrist twisting it backwards. I let out a gasp as pain shot though my entire arm. He looked me dead in my eyes and said “You will wait for me. Do you understand boy?” Unable to open my mouth to speak because I was scared a moan of pain would slip - resulting in something worse than a sprained wrist, I nodded my head quickly as he let go of my wrist. The pain was almost unbearable. He simply turned and walked back to the car, being sure to glance around that nobody saw his little incident. As I stood there holding my sprained wrist, I began to realize what my dad was getting me into. He is dragging me half way around the country to a place where I didn’t know. He could kill me and nobody would know. Nobody would care. Nobody.