Outside the leaves rustle in the wind.  Sun shines in through the branches and dance along the shadows on the ground. Gold light filters through the windows as I sit at the table. My stomach is on the floor as I think. My foot taps nervously as I listen to my mom and her boyfriend talk about what’s going on. The day is peaceful, but my house is in an uproar.

My dad’s coming.

To put it shortly, I did not want to go. Everything about being at my dad’s made me feel horrible. The past few years I’d lived there were toxic, and had made me feel terrible about myself. Everything I did was mocked or belittled, until I was afraid to do anything. I had absolutely no desire to put myself back into a spot to be torn down over all of my actions. To add on top of that, I had enough stress going on at the time. I was trying to finish my first year at a new school, deal with my family on my mom’s side, and keep a relationship with someone who lived an hour away. I had spent the whole year I’d moved out of my dads trying to improve myself to be more positive and easy on myself and others, and I did not want a huge set back by going right back to it.

My skin felt like there were a thousand bugs crawling on me, and every breath burned my chest. One of the worst things about going to my dad’s was that there was no telling how my dad and his fiance would act. It was always either like I was trash or sickly sweet. The uncertainty of the situation made my insides boil.  

Around 7, I walked outside with my mom. The sun hit my face, and I breathed in the cool evening air. I was relieved to see that Barb, his fiance, wasn’t in my dad’s truck with him. That meant around 45 minutes of a level of normalcy.

My mom walked with me to give him some paperwork. She went to his window  to tell him what it was. She was calmer than I expected her to be when my dad told her not to talk to him and that he didn’t care what she had - even though he was the one who had asked for the paperwork.

Dad and I said our awkward hello’s. He knew I didn’t want to be there, yet he tried to act like everything was fine. He turned the radio on to an 80s channel, and we sang along on the ride to his house.

Friday night and Saturday morning were fine. They had turned the wifi off and I assumed it was to stop me from texting anyone, but they didn’t know that I had a tracfone with me. Dad wouldn’t let me do my homework because “You never did your homework when you visited your moms on weekends did you?”. I had to ask to go to the bathroom, to go to my bedroom, or to go outside, you know, just the normal stuff.

So, when Barb finally did come to the house, everything went south. When it’s just Dad and I, we get along great. My dad and I had always been very close. It’s not like my dad’s a bad guy, because he’s far from that. He just has no spine and is easily manipulated. After living with Barb for years, she had him broken like a horse.

When Barb did walk in, the first thing she said was:

“Get her out of here, I’ve been at work all day, and I want to be able to be in my own house.”

My skin tingled with anger and frustration. As if I was stopping her? Me, a teenage girl who does just about everything she’s told without complaint. I’d always tried my best to be good, so the fact that she was treating me like this made me feel sick.

Either way, Dad and I went outside. We cleaned the barn for a while before my dad decided we should go shopping, so we did. It was when we got back to the house that things got weird again.

We pulled into the drive and Barb was standing out on the porch waiting for us. She had this really snide smile on her face and her nose was stuck up in the air. She was like a snake coiled up in the grass, ready to strike. Dad and I started getting out of the car when she spoke.

“What do you need to tell her about your truck?”

I glanced over at dad. He looked embarrassed. “You have to sit in the back.”

“Yeah,” Barb chirped in with an obnoxiously happy expression. “‘Cause I don’t want your stank ass dirtying up that truck.”

Now, obviously at this point, I knew that she just wanted a reaction. She loved the power trip of me getting upset just to obey anyway. So, instead of defending myself, I smiled her and said “Okay.”

She pointed her finger at me and continued, “You might remember things your way, but I’ll remember them mine.” She rolled her eyes and walked to her car.

I helped Dad carry the groceries and the take-out food in. Barb went somewhere and was gone for a couple of hours. When Dad and I were sitting down to eat he realized that we didn’t have forks.

“Do you want me to get you one, or am I not allowed in the silverware drawer?” I asked. As soon as I said it I realized that it was probably not the best thing to say to my dad, but I was so fed up. This was the first time he’s seen me in months, and he’s going to let some old hag talk to me like that? Frustration was bubbling up inside me, it was so unbelievable that he’d let his own daughter be treated so poorly.

Fortunately for me, though, he didn’t hear me, so I just went and got him a fork. Apparently I wasn’t done yet, though, because without thinking as I handed him the fork I continued.

“Here you go, but be careful, you don’t wanna catch anything.” Suddenly I was very afraid. I’d never said anything that snotty on purpose to my dad, and I knew he’d tell Barb, and what would she do? My dad looked up to me in anger.

“What did you just say to me?” He asked.

“Nothing,” I muttered, and sat down at the table to eat.

“Really? After all we’ve done for you? And after all you’ve done to us? The hell you put us through? The things we had to deal with with you? You should be bending over backwards to get us to forgive you, you should be begging….” My dad continued on his long tangent about how horrible I was and, how I should be doing everything in my power to get on their good side again, and how I’d torn our whole family apart, but I just tuned it out and ate my food.

After I was done eating, I took care of my leftovers and sat down on the couch to read. Dad was giving me the look most parents get when you’re doing something wrong.

“Maybe you should sit on a towel instead,” He said.

There are a few things that my dad has taught me. One of my earliest memories is sitting in the canoe with my dad and his friend, Eric. I remember wearing Eric’s hat on backwards and yelling in excitement because I had a bass on the line. I remember how proud my dad said he was of me. Dad taught me how to fish, how to put bait on a hook, how to take a fish off of a hook. We used to go fishing every morning after he got home from work in the summer. I looked forward to it every day. Something else he taught me is that if you’re doing something and you’re not confident in it, you have to own it anyway, because if you think you’re cool and confident, then you’ll look more cool and confident.  But one thing he taught me is that people absolutely hate when you are unbothered by their anger. He used to laugh in my moms face when they got into fights, and it drove her crazy. He did it to Barb sometimes. Oh, how satisfying it was to have him on the other side of things.

So, I remained unbothered. I stood up and got a towel, made eye contact with him, smiled real big, then sat down. He didn’t like it. He got up and came back with a trash bag.

“Sit on this instead.”

I did. I read for about an hour before going to ‘bed’. In reality I was just in the guest room texting my boyfriend. I told him everything that had happened, and that I wasn’t sure how I wanted to react.

For the next hour or so I debated what I wanted to do. A large part of me wanted to leave. I didn’t want to stand for them treating me like garbage. I mean, I’m not perfect, I know. But I’m still just a kid. I was 11. I was 12, I was 13, I was… I was and am just a kid who’s been trying their best but still being told that whatever they do isn’t good enough, and that they’ll never do anything good in their life. That I’m ruined and that everything's my fault. But I know that isn’t true now, and I needed them to know that I was done with their mind games. After so long without being around them and having time to look back and see how horrible they were, I couldn’t just sit there and be treated so poorly.

But going against my dad was so against my nature. Every part of me felt like it was a bad idea, but I knew it wasn’t healthy for me to stay. I’d been there for a day and a half and I was already feeling like I was worthless and like everything was falling apart.

So I debated. I had my boyfriend's mom's phone number. She’d told me before that anytime I needed her she would do whatever she could to help me. She also knew the situation with my dad and had been trying to figure out a way so I wouldn’t have to go there. I could text her and she could be at my dad's house in 15 minutes. But what if they catch me?

I texted her and told her about the situation. In reality, what they were doing was miniscule compared to other things they’d done to me. Still, it was too much. They had no right to treat me that way, and I didn’t want them to think that they did. His mom told me to grab my stuff and sneak out.

Barb and Dad were outside. I stood up and quietly put all of my stuff back into my backpack. My hands were shaking, I felt dizzy, and it was hard to breathe. I tried to be quick. I put on my hoodie and walked through the house to the door, and put on my shoes. As I was about to walk out the door, I heard footsteps coming up the deck stairs and the door open. I froze in fear. I’d obviously just gotten caught, but I couldn’t back down now. The door opened and I felt like the air was knocked out of me.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Barbs loud voice asked.

“I’m leaving,” I said in a voice I wish had been a lot braver than it was. Barb scoffed, and then my dad walked in.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“She thinks she’s going someplace,” Barb sneered. “She probably already planned this out with her mother.”

Dad glared at me and Barb studied me for a second. I went to open the door but Barb shut it. Panic welled up inside of me. How was I going to leave? What was I going to do? What were they going to do to me? I frantically searched and thought of a way to get out around them. I would drop everything I’d brought and bolt if I had to.

“Listen. It’s your father’s weekend, and whether or not you like it, you have to stay. It’s the law. You think you have rights, well you don’t, little girl.” Barb went on and on, but I didn’t care. If police put me back with them I’d just leave again, and again, and again, until Dad and Barb just stopped trying. I’d always told my dad that I’d love to see him and do things with him, but that I wasn’t comfortable with spending the weekend at his house. Look at what happened because of it.

Suddenly Barb changed gears once she realized that I wasn’t buying into her threats. “Elizabeth,” She began. “This is new to us, too. We don’t know how to handle this weekend on, weekend off thing. We’re sorry.” Her voice dripped with sorrow and sympathy. “Just tell us how you want to be treated and we’ll treat you like that. Help us understand.” She had tears in her eyes and her arms were open. Dad was in the back telling me that I need to go into the living room so that we can talk about this ‘like a family’. “Please, Elizabeth. We’re a family, and we’re going through a rough time, but we can work this out. I don’t want to feel uncomfortable walking around my own house. I don’t want to have to worry about everytime you come here. Please. Help us be better.”

For a second doubt filled my mind. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was just imagining everything. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I was making it out to be. Should I just go along with it..?

But then I stopped and thought. No matter what, there was no way I was going to get away with trying to sneak out. Besides, if I was compelled enough to leave in the first place, there must have been a reason for it. Not once in my life have I ever made a decision like that.

“Look,” I began. “I’m sorry, but, I think we both know that’s not going to work. We’ve tried this several other times, and it’s never worked. I don’t want to be here, I don’t think it’s healthy for me, and from the sounds of it, you don’t think it’s healthy for you either. So, I’m leaving.” I was surprised at how calm I sounded. I wasn’t crying either, which was different then most of our confrontations.

Barb looked at me for a second. Dad had walked into the living room. She still had a sad look on her face that made my stomach turn.

“Fine. I’ll leave it between you and your dad. I’m out of it.” I went to go open the door, but she stopped me. “But you’re not leaving on your dad's weekend.”

I shouldered my purse and weighed my options, before walking through the house. I was trembling from adrenaline as I sped walked past my dad. He seemed relieved that I was obeying and going to the living room, but he didn’t know what I was really doing. The front door was open, with only the screen door closed, and it was my target. I reached it and tried to open the door, but my hands were shaking so much, it took me several tries to get it open.

“Barb, she’s going out the front!” My dad yelled once he saw what I was up to. I ran out the door just as he grabbed at me, and I scurried to the driveway. I’d thought I’d heard my boyfriends mom pull in, but she wasn’t there. I ran down to the road. It was pitch black and now I was terrified for completely different reasons.

I looked back at my dads house. He was starting to run out the door but Barb stopped him.

“Don’t worry, honey,” She said. “I’ll call the police. They’ll catch you in a minute, b****!” She screamed down at me.

I didn’t care. I ran down the street and pulled out my phone to call my boyfriends mom. She answered, and soon found me.

I spent the night at her house. I called Mom and let her know where I was. She came and got me the next day. That night Dad also blocked me on Facebook, as well as my mom’s phone. I haven’t talked to Dad since that night, though I’ve seen him in court since then.

When I saw Dad at the courthouse, he refused to even look at me or acknowledge my presence. Barb was with him and would laugh and scoff anytime my mom or I said something. In court the first thing my dad did was pull out my birth certificate.

My mom got pregnant with me when she was still married to her first husband, and by the time I was born, they were still in the process of divorce, so her first husband’s name is the name on my birth certificate. My mom still had my last name be “Wyatt” instead of “Dally” because she knew that my dad was my dad.

It’s been like that on my birth certificate all my life. It’s never been a problem before. But, that day at the courthouse my dad decided that I wasn’t his, and that he doesn’t want any custody of me, and that because I am not his, he shouldn’t have to pay child support. I’ve lost a lot of respect for him trying to pull that.

All in all, I’m glad that I left. I could have done many other things, but at least this way, it’s kept Barb out of my life for a while. I feel like I definitely got the point across that I wasn’t okay with what they were doing. Overall, it’s not the perfect solution. Obviously I still want my father in my life, but it’s important to recognize what isn’t healthy for you, and to get away from it.