Are you alone? Are you accompanied? I remember your sweater and the way it smelt. It stung my eyes. Do you still know me?
It’s New Year’s Day, I‘m eleven years old, watching a movie with my sister’s boyfriend, the air cool from the fan. My sister has been gone to the garage for a while now, while I sit on the couch with her boyfriend. After a while, I went to check. I opened the door and walked slowly down the steps to my garage, my father is here.
I hug him; his jacket smells like funny smoke, his eyes are dark and bloodshot, and he isn’t wearing his dentures either. Oma and Opa talk with him, and I space out whenever they talk; it’s a habit of mine. Me and my sister stand by, I haven’t seen him in months, but I had talked with him on the phone on Christmas Day. I’m happy he’s here, but I want to return to my movie with my sister’s boyfriend. It’s too hot in the garage, and the smell of my father makes me sick.
After about ten minutes, he leaves. I’m not really sure where he goes. A few months later, DHS would come to my home to have a chat with my Oma and Opa about how they treat us. Another few months and my mother gains legal custody over me, and my Oma couldn’t yell.
A few more years and I’m turning sixteen in a few months. It only reminds me that I can’t remember a birthday my father spent with me. I haven’t seen or spoken with him since January 1, 2021. He was in jail for a while, but he’s out now. I don’t know where he is, but I miss him. And it’s dangerous on the streets for an addict.
