This piece is a true story about visiting my father in prison. It's a very emotional piece that I want to share with everyone who has similar family problems. Chapter 1: The Prison You Built The Prison You Built
I have some of the worst memories of when I was eleven. I was young and clueless, and still developing the problems I had to face in reality. And when you’re this young, it’s the last thing you want to do. Back then I still loved my Dad. I’m not sure if I still do? I never thought him wrong. He was my Dad; my Dad could do no wrong. All I knew was Mom and Dad. I wanted to be happy, I didn’t want worries. I was very young but I felt old. Like it was my job to worry, and I believed that is how my life would be, full of worry. I felt I had to worry about other people’s problems. My siblings were younger than me, so I couldn’t imagine how they felt. Alone and only me to lean on, when I couldn’t even stand straight myself. How did they feel about life? Did they understand where my Dad went? I’m sure Katie knew, but I remember telling Mikey, Dad was in school to become a better Dad. I knew it was a lie, Katie knew the truth too. Katie was known to be a crier but she never told me she did. Maybe she felt I would make fun of her for it. I wouldn’t though, never hurt my sister like that. How much could a little girl hold in? How much could I hold in without busting out in tears? The worst thing was that I was used to it. I was used to being confused and alone. This is the age where my hate started building up. Soon it would cloud my vision and consume my life.
It started as a regular school day. I was in sixth grade. One night before my parents started arguing. It wasn’t anything new to me. They always argued. Sometimes Katie and Mikey would watch like it was a movie. I would say, Kate doesn’t watch or Kate goes upstairs. She wouldn’t listen, she was stubborn, but I could tell she would get upset watching them. Who wouldn’t? Me. What I didn’t understand about Katie was, if she got so upset watching them argue then why would she watch in the first place? I would go upstairs and shut the door and listen to the radio or put on the television. Sometimes I would sit on my dresser and look out the window and day dream. They argued until my Dad left without a goodbye to any of us. Then my mom kept ranting on about him, saying were better off. She always said that, for eight years she said that. I don’t remember what he did though when he would leave. I went to sleep that night thinking, where did my Dad go? He lives here! With us, I felt bad thinking he had nowhere to go. He belonged here. I went to school and I tried not to think about him but it was hard not to. The day went by slow. I was trapped in my thoughts. I thought too much for being in eleven.
When I came home that afternoon, the front door was unlocked and I walked in and the living room was empty. I set my school bag on the kitchen table and sat down. Nobody was home, which didn’t feel right. Suddenly my mom opened the front door.
I asked her where she went and she said the corner store. She didn’t look me in the eye. I asked if she heard from Dad as I started to do my homework. She answered proudly, almost like she was glad.
“Guess where he’s at?” she asked. She leaned on a dining chair starring at me.
I didn’t know. I had no idea. Well maybe I did but then again I didn’t. I didn’t want to think it.
“I don’t know.” I said.
She uttered one word she said that made my head spin.
“Jail,” she said simply. I gulped.
For what, I asked. She said he was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
“What do you mean?”
“He was driving with his friend and his friend ran into the 7eleven and when he came back, Dad was gone. He found him across the street buying stuff,” my mom said. He was buying stuff; did that make my Dad a drug addict? I kind of knew what my Dad would do, but now I really knew. Now I was sure and it broke me. I was too young to lose my innocence. The days went by quietly and slow and not one day went by without me thinking about him. I always thought of him. I didn’t want to write him because I felt betrayed. I think I still do, feel betrayed anyway.
Then about two weeks later, I came home and my sister wasn’t there like she usually was. Maybe over a friend’s house? I walked into the kitchen where my mom was cooking dinner like usually and asked where Katie was. My mom said she went to visit my Dad with my Aunt. I was shocked. My sister chose to see him? Why would she do that to herself? My younger sibling did something I could never do. She went without me? I never knew she even wanted to see him. She didn’t tell me anything anymore. Was I a bad sister?
I thought she’d be the kind to hate his guts. Guess I was wrong. I don’t remember what Katie’s reaction was when she saw him. She was fine when she came back. My mom asked me if I wanted to go see him. I said yeah, without a doubt. I felt like I betrayed myself because I wanted to hate him but yet he was my Dad. You can’t hate your Dad. We planned for my aunt to pick all three of us up and my Mom, one day after school. My Aunt picked me up with my brother and my mom and my sister and she took us to Red Robin. The entire time I was nervous.
We drove to the prison in silence. There was so much tension you could slice it with a knife. I remember waiting for hours and hours to see him. Or so it felt like. We had to get searched, fully searched. I didn’t understand why I had to get searched, I was a kid. What did I have to hide? This woman cop even looked through my hair. I just wanted to see him. Then we went through these big heavy doors. We stood there waiting for bigger doors to open. I heard a loud buzz and the next thing I knew I saw a sea of orange. Men looked at us to see if it was their loved one. I searched the crowd for my Dad. He was standing up all the way in the back. The room was like a lobby. Everybody was staring. My Dad had tears in his eyes, but they never fell. I have never to this day seen my Dad cry. We rushed to my Dad and I gave him the biggest hug I could give. He wore an orange body suit, with a white band around his wrist. I couldn’t believe this was my Dad. He looked different and old.
We all sat and talked to him but my mom was yelling. I sat and listened to them argue. There was no getting away from it! It was actually embarrassing.
I said, please. Let’s not argue. We stayed, we talked. I told him what was going on in my life. But I was there, here. In a jail visiting my Dad. I was still so innocent; I didn’t know what was going on. Still wondering why he was here? Still wondering why? No one really explained anything to me. I was lost in my thoughts and worries yet again. No one should go through that, or have that memory. No child should see their father in jail. You’ll always wonder why? Not just why was he in a jail but why did I go? But I did. When we left, Mikey said something that broke my heart.
“Come on, Dad,” Mikey said and we got up to leave
“No Mike, I got to stay, bud,” my Dad said, with tears in his eyes. I couldn’t imagine what Mikey was thinking!? He was three!
“Oh,” Mikey said and his face saddened. My little brother cries yet again for my father. We left, we went home quietly. I was hurt, because I missed him. Even though my Dad knew little about showing affection. I would have to ask my Dad for a hug. When he left he would never say goodbye. He would sit on the couch and sleep. I had to watch him sleep, sometimes it would seem like he wasn’t breathing. When he was gone, sometimes it felt like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. There was no more arguing, cursing, and crying because he was gone. Were we better off without him? Mikey wanted his Dad back. Katie wanted his Dad back. Me, I didn’t know what I wanted. I could live with or without him. I had to learn to live like that. Not caring if he was there or not. I learned to be the person I am today. I learned to be strong for my siblings. I walked around like I hated him and Katie followed my footsteps, but I didn’t want Katie to hate my Dad. No one should hate their Dad. Inside I loved my Dad for being my Father, but I didn’t love him like a Dad. Inside I wanted relationship with my father like other families had. I learned to live with a disappointment. It makes me who I am today. I became a stronger person, sister, and daughter. The only regret I have in life is growing up so fast.
When I think of this, I hate it. I wish I never went. No child should see their father in jail. Now being older and knowing the truth, it makes me want to scream. My hate grows with each day knowing that Mikey had cried over my Dad leaving when he never should have! Knowing my mom cried and sister. What did you do to go to jail Dad? For six months? I feel as if I’m stuck over what to do? Hate or Love? You’re my Dad and always will be but your actions speak louder than your words. I feel this way because of you. It’s all because I’m in the prison you built.