I was unaware of what was about to happen next. I was Adam’s only support during this time and the one who encouraged him to achieve his goals. We wished for the same thing, which was that he would participate in anything he wanted his senior year to make it unforgettable. But even more importantly, I wished his father would show the slightest interest or care in Adam’s desires. This past Halloween, the controlling side of his father was shown.

I stared at the dirty, white tile beneath the kitchen table, frightened. “I’m playing baseball, no matter what,” Adam stated. He sat directly across from me, pale in the face. The conversation quickly developed into a heated one.

“Don’t try and tell me what you are going to do. You don’t make the rules in this house!” Adam’s father shouted and continued on. “I don’t know who you think you are telling me what you are going to do and what you’re not.” I know Adam well enough to know part of him wanted to stick up for himself, but the other part of him was scared to say anything else in fear that the boisterous screaming would immediately amplify. His father bellowed, “I don’t care if you go to any damn after school activities!” so powerfully it pierced my fragile ears. I glanced up for about ten seconds and witnessed Adam’s father dauntingly walk towards him, index finger flexed, pointing; his face red as hell. I stared at Adam, searching for his eyes in hope they would meet mine. Seeing him in terror made me want to stand up for him and say something effective that would force his father to stop yelling. I eventually drowned out the yelling and thought to myself in complete panic, “Should I say something? What should I say?”

Sometime, while I was blocking out the yelling, the argument began to involve Adam’s paychecks. “Drive down to the bank right now. I don’t care how you get there. If you don’t have at least six hundred dollars in your account you aren’t doing anything for the rest of the weekend!” Adam’s step mother stood, crossing her arms, in front of the oven. She never said one damn word throughout the entire argument.

I couldn’t stand to sit there and unwillingly watch his father scream at his own son anymore. Without thinking, I hurriedly stood up from my chair and walked directly in between Adam and his father, whom were still standing in the middle of the small, crude kitchen. My eyes were filled with tears and snot from my nose was running down my face. I could not understand why someone would ever treat their child with such hate. It’s unbelievable that he had to deal with this every day of his life.

I walked out of Adam’s house and weakly stood in front of the white, chipped garage. The wind stuck on my soaked cheeks when I swung the door open. My hands cupped around my face and my mouth was uncontrollably sucking air in and out. My body shook. It was numbing outside, but I didn’t dare go back into that house. I waited, hoping Adam would come outside soon.

About fifteen minutes went by, and he finally came out of the house. Without any hesitation and no words spoken, he walked straight to his red, beaten up truck. I wiped my tears from my face and followed. My clothing was sopping wet and my shoes were soaking up more water by the second from shuffling through the puddle filled driveway.

I slowly took a deep breath, open the truck door, and climbed in. My elbow rested on the inside of the door and the coolness from the window crept closer. I tried so hard not to look over at Adam because the thought of seeing him cry made my stomach tighten. I stared out of the frost covered window for the entire ride. Thoughts were racing through my mind and I was unsure of what to say.

Adam remained silent until we arrived at the bank. His father, never once, praised or even thanked him for the depleting favors he had complete. He views Adam as a child who is disobedient, troublesome, and lazy. When in reality, he is the complete opposite. Adam is a growing man, who works hard for good grades in school and after school goes to work every day, he finishes every single chore he is asked to do, and he tries to live his life as a normal teenage guy as well as he can.

“It’ll be okay,” Adam says with a shaking voice. I was stunned by these words that seemed to just fall out of his mouth. After going through all of that, he still wanted to be sure I was alright even though he was the one that was forced to endure the over reaction of his father.

“I can’t believe that he just asked me that, after all of the things he just went through,” I thought to myself. I look at him and forced the sides of my mouth to turn upward. If nothing else, this truly shows how sincere and caring Adam is for others. His father is wrong about him.