Ten Seven Teen

Dear Simone,

It’s always: 10:17pm or am, $10.17, $101.7, October 17th etc. It brings me straight back to AMC.

My dad used to yell about everything. Throw things away that we liked. Even if he just bought it. Ruined electronics and made us use our clothes until they were falling apart. For a really long time, I thought we were poor. Looking back now, we were probably low income, but he didn’t know how to fully invest or prioritize. My father prioritized fun. We would watch the movies HE wanted, go to the buffet EVERY Saturday because HE wanted. If we needed to get things done, he’d only take us to the store HE wanted. We weren’t allowed to suggest new places or ideas and if we did, he would cancel the whole day and yell about everything. He was a child.

He treated each sister differently too. I was supposed to just know things. Just do things. If he was mad, I should just know to not need anything or contradict him, give him what he needs by saying “hand me the thing” then proceeds to call me stupid or useless for asking questions. Everything was no to me. I should just like what he likes but act like a girl and be just as excited about things as him. I’m the oldest so I had to do more.

Nativity was the 2nd child. I had to care for her. She always cried. I was 8. He just wanted silence. And 19 months later, came Lilly Rae. Dad treated Nativity so badly, she became mom’s favorite. No matter what wrongs she did, they would turn a blind eye and blame me. Lilly was dad’s favorite. because she looked just like him. She was a fat baby with gray eyes. He would just stare at her. My parents always say she almost died because she got RSV and was hospitalized. I was supposed to just do whatever they needed. But he would tell me to “go away! You don’t exist, do you hear me?! I’m trying to watch tv! You’re always talking, and I can’t hear!” But imagine at the top of his lungs, staring me down with crazy wide angry eyes.

Funny because, I barely spoke. I wasn’t allowed. Eventually when we moved, I was about 12 years old. I had to share a room with my sisters. I wasn’t ALLOWED to talk to them because I was older and a bad influence. I couldn’t talk to anyone.

No wonder I let AMC do what he did and stayed for as long as I did. His chaos was home to me. And then I did myself “one better,” by marrying Jeh Nay’s dad and my life went downhill from there. He reminded me of my father, but he was worse. I had enough common sense to leave him, but I think I left a little too late. Now I struggle with the damage and unwilling coparenting.

AMC’s address was 1017 Case Ave.

Life always finds a way to keep reminding me.

“F” this day.