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I Guess That's Why It's Called Life  by Phay

 

I guess you could say that my life sucks and that its ohh so terrible but in reality whose life isn’t. When y0u see someone you obviously don't know their whole life story from top to bottom. In fact you don’t know anything about that person until they start to talk to you but even then you don’t know the whole picture only little snips and pieces. Eventually if you stay in that person’s life long enough though it builds trust and from there a relationship leading you into the deepest corners of their beautiful painted closet. When you get inside you expect to see a grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling and beautiful shoes and clothes from all the top brands, however you come face to face with a wonderful magical........Place of nothing. The floor is not white as it should be but brown with ugly black stains. The clothes..... What clothes the ones that hang their lifelessly with holes and ugly spots for all to see? What do you do when you step insides someone’s closet. Most run out afraid of what else they might see. A dead rat or even worse a rooting skeleton. How would you have known when the doors are painted in the nicest color out there? It’s beautiful and clean on the outside and you swear you saw it sparkle? That is the way most people are. Hell not even most, everyone is like this. You wonder how it can end up like this it sure as hell wasn’t like that when it started. Everyone has a story and with that story comes a beginning leading and sending what was once an innocent child’s world of prince charming and the one glass slipper into the evil step sister’s heart, black and dirty with hatred knowing how the world is from the inside and not from a lovely castle in the sky....... Okay I guess I’ll just start from the beginning...

That door knock that changed my life. How can it be that, that one simple thing can destroy a dream, a life, and a whole family? With that one door knock my life fell like a glass vase. All the pieces scattered around in different places. They came in one by one into our already small apartment. 1 cop, 3 detectives, and 1 social worker. I was confused...

I thought they were coming in for the usual..."we are looking for someone something if you have seen him/her can you please call us immediately" crap they usually did in my neighborhood. Not that my neighborhood was ghetto far from it actually. Yorba Linda, California where the rich doctors and wealthy business men hang out. But as they came in further into my house I could tell they weren’t there for that reason at all. My parents were so naive to their rights and I was just 10 with an 8 year old sister we didn’t even know about the amendments. So they came in made themselves feel at home (without a warrant) and began to snoop around. I guess the head hancho man asked my mother if the police officer and the social worker could talk to us, because next thing I knew they came into room. I was shocked a little. I  mean a cop in your room with a social worker who wouldn’t be... they began to question us.

At first the questions were friendly ones like "ohh what’s your name" and "what grade are you in". We answered still utterly confused by the whole scenario. Soon though they began to question us with more serious like questions trying to make it seem like they weren’t. The social worker in an overly sweet caring voice asked us “has your father done anything bad to you" I answered honestly and said no. Again…"has your father made you participate in fashion shows taking pictures of you" I answered again no. I didn’t understand any of it. How could I. They began to ask more serious questions about my father making me uncomfortable. I sounded like they were trying to see if he was a bad guy. 

After the questions they left leaving me and my sister alone to talk. We were both unsure of what was going on. After enough time had passed we decide to go check on my mom in the living room. When we walked down the hallway the detectives were leaving and the head hancho man was giving his card to my mom."Ma'm if there is anything you need give me a call" A fake sympathy look on his face. He left and I looked for my dad.

 

My mom still stood by the fireplace still in shock I guess. After looking all around the house I asked her where my dad was and she told me “They took him” and broke down in tears.

 

 

 

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  'I Guess That's Why It's Called Life' statistics: (click to read)
Date created: April 21, 2012
Date published: April 21, 2012
Comments: 0
Tags: change, father, jail, life, teenage
Word Count: 1096
Times Read: 151
Story Length: 2
Children Rank: 2.9/5.0 (1 votes)