From as long as I can remember it was always me and my father. It was terrible I know if he had the chance to not have me around he would take it so quickly. All he ever did was drink, he never stopped. With him being the only person around to raise me I couldn’t help but think about my mom. Why did she leave? Would life be different? Did she even want me? I am now 18 and I need to find her, I need answers. I remember my uncle Nick reaching out to me a few times when I was growing up just to check up on me, he has to know where my mom is. I decided to call him.

He answered “Hello?”

“Uncle Nick it’s me, Pammy.”

“Hi, I was just about to call and say happy birthday. How does 18 feel?”

“Great! I do have a quick question though.”
“Anything.”
“Do you know where my mom is staying?”

“I do. Do you think this is the right thing to do?”
“Honestly, yes I need some answers.”
“Okay, I will send over the address over. Good luck bye now.”
“Bye, thank you, Uncle Nick.”

As I hung up the phone all I could think about was seeing my mom. That night I had packed all my things together and went to sleep. The following morning I wrote my father a letter saying that I was off to search for my mom and goodbye. I was finally starting my journey to find my mom. A long travel later I walk up a pathway and find a big house with a beautiful yard with a stone walkway up to the door. I slowly walked up to the door. I remember standing there debating whether to knock on the door or not. Just as I was about to walk away I dropped my bag and it hit the door causing a loud bang. A man of tan skin and short hair opened the door. I quietly said, “Hi, I am looking for Daisy Fay.” He stood there for a minute just looking at me and underneath his breath just loud enough for me to hear said: “you look just like her.” He realized that he was just staring and led me into the living room. I took a seat not knowing what to expect next. She walked in and said “Pammy?” I turned, it was to weird to see her I didn’t know whether to hug her or be mad at her. All I could manage to say was “why?” My mom sat down with me and we talked for hours. She told me everything, why she had to leave. She knew my father would never do anything to me as I was his daughter but she would never have the same protection. She said after she left she tried to get in touch but my father cut off all ties between us. It all made sense now and I met Gatsby he was very nice and my mom seemed happy. They allowed me to stay with them my life was finally at ease, I was going to be okay. I had been living with Gatsby and my mom for about four to five months when there was a life-changing knock at the door. Gatsby went to open the door, and in front of him stood my father. He was yelling “Where is Pammy I know she is here.”

He barged in pushing Gatsby. He was drunk just like all the times before. My mom and I were standing watching this play out. Gatsby grabbed my father to try and calm him down. I heard a bang and saw Gatsby fall down to the ground. My father had shot him. That image will be in my head for the rest of my life. About two weeks later were all standing at Gatsby’s funeral. I was standing with my mom and Uncle Nick looking at the casket. I realized Gatsby was more of a dad to me in a matter of four months than my father in a matter of eighteen years. The saying anyone can be a become a father but, it takes someone special to be a dad became true. I will miss you Gatsby and I will take care of my mom.