A Promise Never Forgotten

Chicago. My parents just had to move there.

“Mommy why are we moving to Chicago, “ I asked tugging at the hem of her shirt. It’s 1991 and I’m seven. Apparently, living in New Jersey wasn’t very “comfortable,” at least that’s what my mom had said. I may only be seven, but I knew the truth.

They were running from their problems again.

By the way, my parents never told me what their jobs were. My dad didn’t because he was barely home. Usually, when he was, I didn’t want to be a round to know. My mother didn’t tell me because she was probably ashamed. I had to find out what exactly was her “job” the hard way.

“My mom told me that your mom’s a whore, “ a classmate of mine had told me during recess, laughing and pointing mercilessly. Yeah let’s just say she didn’t leave school that day with her face feeling so good. My mother’s job was indeed what anyone would think a whore is. Either way, that girl had no right. Mom was a bartender and for part time job a dancer at the same place.

I always had to take care of myself and my mother. Even if it sounds like life was quite bad, I still had plenty of friends and my mother never treated me badly. We were always close and she would cry over and over again to me apologizing of how she and father were not being the greatest parents.

So yes, back to the move. After another day of school, I got the mail like every day. On top of everything there was a note that said, “Your Dead!”

I gave it to my mom as soon as she came home and then she talked to my father. He came home that night after a week in a half absence. Where he goes, who knows? Sure as heck no I rather not know.

Parents yelling, drowning out the sound with Robert Plant’s voice blasting in my huge headphones. I wrote down a few poems and went to sleep with tears escaping my eyes.

I woke up to a silent house. Hopefully there won’t be any dead bodies downstairs. I sighed and hesitated down the hallway. I opened my mom’s door praying to God she was okay. My father never hurt my mother before, but I also never heard him as piss like he was last night.

Sleeping soundly on her bed, was my mother. I gave out another heavy sigh in relief and crept into her room. She had a bottle of Jack Daniels next to her. Another drunk night. Skipping to the kitchen, I got my mom’s other savior. Advil.

After leaving it on her night stand and pouring out the remainder of alcohol, I finally realized that her room was empty and everything was in boxes. Forms were on the floor and phone numbers.

“Moving trucks, house for sale, Chicago. . .” I read out loud through all of the papers and it all lead to one thing.

We were moving.

So Dad was in trouble and now he just had to ruin all of our lives with his. I ran into my room and packed my things in boxes as well and did most of the rest of the house, knowing my mother would just hurt herself or get frustrated.

Chicago. Chicago. Chicago.

What will be there? It won’t be that bad. I just had to stay positive. Yeah, that’s it. I mean Illinois isn’t that bad. It’ll be awesome. Just start over and maybe my parents will even get better.

I brought a smile to my face as my mom walked into the living room.

“Good morning mommy, “ I said softly and got up from the floor where I was tapping a box closed, and hugged her lightly.

She returned my hug and went to get some toast, and a mug fo coffee that I always prepared for her. Since she had a hangover and she had an argument with dad, I made her an omelet with waffles if she wanted.

A few minutes later she finished eating and looked around the place.

“You packed everything,” she asked more to herself. I nodded.

“But how did you . . . ” I cut her off before she can finish her question.

“I went in your room to give you some Advil and noticed all the paperwork you left on the floor.”

“Oh, I see . . . you don’t mind right honey,” she asked me worriedly. I quickly shook my head to reassure her. She worried so much about me and she didn’t need any more troubles. Especially right now.

“No no no no no no no. It’s really fine, I think it’s a good idea.”

“Your father just needs to get a few things. He’ll be back and since we are almost finish he’ll be glad that we can leave tonight.”

“Sure, sound great,” I answered. My mom looked more at ease at my calmness. I’m glad, wouldn’t want her to go through any more stress.

“Mom so is dad in trouble, “

“Well, sweety. He just needs to start over too, ya know. “

My mother patted my head and I never mentioned the topic again. I can tell she didn’t want to talk about it or let alone tell me the truth. Both of my parents never told me anything, I had to find out myself. Never did like the way I found out though.

Father called to check up and I knew my mother truly loved my dad. Him, I’m not so sure. He didn’t seem to love her whenever he was round, from what I can hear all the way upstairs in my room.

I found him to be a stranger to me a long time ago. He’s just using us to fall back on. I just wish I can let him know that it won’t last. That one day he’ll get what he truly deserves, but I knew I shouldn’t be thinking such things.

I returned to packing and hummed “Interstellar Overdrive” by Pink Floyd, already imagining my soon to be new life in Chicago, Illinois.