Everyone has that messed up part of your family, whether it is your mom’s side or your dad’s side, or even your grandparents’. Well, my messed up part is with my mom and dad. Ya, I sure lucked out on that one didn’t I? Anyway, my mom got pregnant with me when she was eighteen; it just so happens my dad also got a lady named Kaelyn Ingalls pregnant. I guess my mom was just a onetime thing, because he decided to deny that I was his, and married Kaelyn. They had a baby boy named Dylan. My dad is now a multimillionaire, because of his invention of some kind of stupid pillow, apparently little kids ate it up. He now not only sends my mom child support, but he sends me checks of a few hundred each month. I donate a lot of it and put it in my college fund. He owes my mom, not me. He called to apologize to her a few years ago, on my thirteenth birthday, to say that he was wrong to deny me, and that he wants to be part of my life, my mom and I both denied. He lives in Rolling Hills, California the third most expensive place to live. Where do I live? In New York City. My mom is a homicide detective; NYC has a high crime rate so we are here. It kinda sucks knowing my dad is out there and didn’t want anything to do with me until I was 13. I am now 16, and he hasn’t called since.
My mom’s parents stopped talking to her when she got pregnant, so from day one it has been me and Elina, she wanted me to call her by her first name. It’s been hard that we live a one paycheck life, and that one paycheck isn’t even that much, but I got a job from the minute I was allowed to get one. I now work at, and manager, of the market down the road, within walking distance. The owner, Nick Martin, is like my dad. Honestly, I have been trying to hook him and my mom up since, like, forever, but she doesn’t trust guys. Ever since my dad, she hasn’t had a boyfriend, or even a good guy friend.
Last week however was the worst week of my life. I came home from school and was about to head to work, when the home phone rang, I went to get it thinking it would just be my mom telling me she was staying late. I wish that was the case. It was the NYPD calling me to tell me that my mom was in a shooting, and she was named dead at the site. She had been working on the case for a while now, and I remember her saying she was so close to finding the guy. Well, the guy found her and killed her. He shoot her ten times and stabbed her twice. Fortunately, my mom had called for backup as she was lying on the ground, and gave the name of the guy with her last dying breath. They caught him, two days later. My mom never got to see it. The last thing she saw was that moron’s face and his gun and knife.
The funeral was Monday, it is now Wednesday, and her lawyer called me and said he would like to discuss her will. I just assumed he would tell me she left everything to me, and that I was in care of my Aunt Kristen. That was not the case. She did leave everything to me, but she didn’t leave me in the care of Aunt Kristen, no she left me in the care of my Dad! He told me that he had contacted my dad, and that he was flying out to stay with me for the week and then help me pack up and leave. They were asking me to leave my only home I have ever known. Right after my own mother’s death!
The funeral was the worst thing I have ever done in my entire life, seeing her lifeless body there. She was always full of life. Elina and I are like twins. I inherited her flawless blond hair and bright blue eyes, as well as her thin build and athletic ability. Until Friday, when my dad arrived, I had never known what I had inherited from him. I never really wanted to know either, my mom had left her yearbooks out a few times so that I could get a clear picture of my dad, but I ignored them. Why did I care what he looked like? I kinda, was hoping he was ugly and stupid, and looked scrawny. That made it easier to think of him in my head, as a jerk, just like he was.
My Aunt took me to the airport Friday to go get my dad, he would be staying at my house until the next Monday, when we would fly to his. I had to hold up a sign that said “Mark Miller” since I had never seen him and he had never seen me. That is just pathetic.
“Ashlyn!” a guy, who I presumed was my dad, ran up to me screaming.
“Are you Mark?” I asked, refusing the hug. The butterflies in my stomach told me this was a bad idea, and I knew it
was, but what other choice did I have? I couldn’t go live with my mom’s parents; they hate me and hated my mother with
a passion. They showed up to the funeral and apologized to me, but made it clear they weren’t an option to stay with.
The only other person I knew that had offered to let with stay with them, was my best friend Allie. I was over at her
house often since my mom worked, so her parents grew to love me. They were both like my second parents, and as much
as I would love to stay with them, I couldn’t handle it if Allie and I got in a fight and I had to stay there. We were like
sisters, which means we fight like sisters.
“Yes, and you I presume are Ashlyn, my daughter.” He said, smiling.
“Ya, and you’re Mark, the dad that deserted my mother and I, right?” I said, with a sarcastic smile.
I waited for my aunt to correct me for my rudeness, but she never did. I couldn’t tell if she didn’t interrupt me
because she knew it was true, or because she thought it was funny. Either way, my father sure noticed.
“I know I wasn’t the best father, but-” that was where I cut him off.
“You think you weren’t the best father? You weren’t even a father! You abandoned my mother and I and did nothing
to help us but give us money. Don’t even pretend like you were a father, you weren’t, maybe to Dylan you are but not to
me!” I said, outraged he even had the courage to call himself a father. The closest thing I have ever had to a father was
Nick.
“Can we just get back to your place without killing each other?” he said, I just followed. He wasn’t worth my time.
