School ends, and I meet Janet at the bleachers, she tells me that she overheard some of the school counselors talk about me, and that they know about what happened to my father and why he left. I ask her what teachers, how the hell would they know and all kinds of things that I wanted to know. She only said she heard them talk about it vaguely and they never went into detail about why he left and for what he’s doing. I have to wait until tomorrow to ask some questions, so I decide to walk Janet home. It’s the beginning of April, and it’s still freezing out. I’m wearing like six layers I think. janet tells me she’s hungry so I guess pizza is a good idea, plain, old, shitty pizza. Everyone says how the pizza in the city is the best, but it really isn’t. Long Island’s pizza is way better, plus the chefs there are a lot nicer. As I’m trying to eat this mess of a pizza, Janet keeps looking at her phone, I hate it when people do that, like I’m taking you for pizza, you’re my supposed best friend, and you just look at your phone? I dont’ have any fancy iphone or Galaxy samsung brick phone, all I have is this little piece of crap motorola. I tell her to turn it off and look at me, she does and we begin to talk about our day. After a nice human conversation with her and after finishing our pizza, I walk her home and she tells me that everything we’ll be okay, and that tomorrow I’ll get all the answers I need about my dad. She gives me a hug, and goes into her apartment. 

Dinners with my mom suck, she always yells at me about my grades, always yells at me about my bruises, and never shuts up about how I need a job. This steak is so bad, if I have anymore I think I'm going to hurl. I tell her I’m going upstairs, and then I stop myself. I want to know, I’ve asked her once before when I was ten, but I’m older now and deserve to know. I come back to the table and ask her what happened to my father. He face turns white, and she just looks at me, she then starts to go into a rant about how I wouldn’t understand any of what she was about to tell me, but I don’t care, I just want to know. She then exhales and looks back up, she goes on about how my father was one of the most amazing people she had ever met, and how much of a gentleman he was when they were younger, but also how he made some really bad choices when it came to his friends, and his partners in work. She went onto talk about how my father ran a business, and how some of his partners were unhappy with him. She told me she didn’t know everything, but that she knew enough that he did have to leave, so that me and my mom would never be hurt. My mom said she hates him and loves him for it, but she has no idea where he is now. She hoped he would return someday, but she fears she may never see him again, she walks across the table to me and gives me a big hug. She can be a pain sometimes, but I do love her, a lot, and I have no idea what I would do without her. I go back upstairs to my room and decide to write some more, I write about where my dad might be, or what might have happened that caused him to leave. Was he like a mob boss? Did he do drug trade? Did he get into some sketchy wall street business? My mom’s praises for him really me throw me off, how would we be hurt? I need to sleep it off, I’ll have some questions tomorrow for my counselor.

I hope this day goes quick I really do. I walk into my guidance counselors office, she simply smiles and asks me why I’m here today. I go into asking her if she knows the whereabouts of my father, telling her I overheard some other counselors talking about my father and I wanted to know if she knew anything else. She looked at me and told me she had something for me. She walked over to her cabinet and pulled out and envelope, and a small letter. She told me to bring it home to my mother and that all the answers I needed were in there. I looked at her, and just walked out. What’s inside of this, what answers are in here? I’m in english and I’m so tempted to open, but I know I can’t. My english teacher then tells me to focus and that he wants to see me after class. I keep writing until the bell rings, I walk over to his desk and ask him what’s up. He gives me a look and says he’s impressed with my last assignment, and that he sees me writing in the halls a lot. He asks me if he can see what I write. I feel like an ass saying no so I hand him my journal. He looks through it, and comments on my vulgarity but how well crafted my writing actually is. He tells me I have “A gift.” I look at him and just smile, it’s probably one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. I tell him to have a good day and I walk off.

School ends and I walk home, I’m nervous to show my mom what I have in my backpack. What’s inside of the documents, what's in this letter? I continue to walking down this street an-... I’m on the ground right now, these dumbs shits actually threw a punch at me, these putrid little shits actually hit me. I throw my fist back right into one kids face, landing it into his eye. I find myself getting punched in the stomach, gasping for air, I charge into the other asshole tackling him into the ground, and beating his face in till he bleeds all over. I get up and only one is left, but he doesn’t fight, he simply sees my backpack on the ground and runs off with it. I’m chasing after him now, running down the street hoping he trips and falls, he’s slowly losing speed and I finally catch up to him. I beat the s*** out of him, his face is bloody, I don’t know what to do, so I just run home. My face hurts, my chest hurts, my legs hurt, everything hurts. I trip and fall over a crack in the street, and I don’t want to get up. Suddenly I hear a voice yelling at me, I don’t know if it’s those thugs but I pray to God it’s not. Suddenly I feel a hand around my arm helping me back up, it’s Janet. She gets me back on my feet and gives me a hug, I dig my face into her shoulder and tell her everything is alright. She walks with me back home, helping me up my stairs and gives me a kiss on the cheek and walks off. I walk into my house and see my mom at the table, I tell her that I have something to show her, but before I can say anything she runs over to me and asks about all my bruises and cuts. I told her I’ll explain later, but that I have some news about my father, and that I might have the answer to where he is. She smiles at me, and we walk over to the counter. I open up the letter first.
“Dear Robbie,
This is your father.”
A tear drops from my eye, and I read on.