I Have A Father?????

Like millions of people, I grew up in a single-parent household. My dad had disappeared on my mom, when he found out she was pregnant with me. I think he ran away due to the fact that was a huge gap between their ages, but she claims the reason for him vanishing on us, was because he was chasing after another lady. My mom at the time was only fifteen years old, and like me grew up in a single-parent household. She had lost her mom due to osteoporosis. 

My mom did the best she could to support me. She had quit going to school and started working at a minimum wage job. At the age of ten, I remember my mom coming home one evening with a sad look on her face. I asked what was wrong , but she never gave me an answer. I went to bed that night concerned about the unfamiliar look that was on my mother's face. 

The next day I woke up to the voice of my mother. It was not as soft and calm as it usually was, instead I heard frustration and anger within her voice. I got out my bed and asked her what was wrong, she had responded by handing me the phone. I was greeted by and unfamiliar voice, a voice filled with shame and grief. I looked at my mom and ask, "Who is this mom?", she replied in a low voice, "Your father...".

The blank expression on my faced told it all. For the rest of the day all I could think about was the unfamiliar voice that had entered my memory bank. My did not say much the rest of the day. It seemed like she had been dreading something and that something was about to soon be revealed.

I began to talk to my father on a daily, sometimes before I go to school or before going to bed, He began to send me gifts and and letters. This stranger and I  had developed a bond through our daily conversations.  My mom had went back to her old self and things seemed a little better. She had now began to smile, which was rarely ever seen.  

It was my eleventh birthday, and it was suppose to be a very special day for me. My mom had put on my pink dress, which I had been saving to wear on my birthday for several months. The apartment was filled with vibrant colors of pink and in the middle sat my birthday cake. I looked at the clock and realized that in five minutes my dad should be arriving and my door front. 

As anxious as I was I sat in front the door waiting for the stranger. As minutes went by, I waited and waited.

Hours came along and there was still no knock from the stranger. My mom began to pace back and front around the kitchen with a regretful look on her face. 

Five hours went by and I had got up and looked at my mom, "He's not coming is he?", I asked. She replied with tears, tears that had ran down her freshly pressed face. I hugged her and reassured her that everything was going to be okay.

We spent the rest of the night reminiscing on the things that I did in my younger age and all the good times . I never heard from the stranger again until I was thirteen. Now looking back on this, I realize that you can't put your trust in a stranger, unless that stranger has proven their self. It hurt me that my dad never had showed up and that he put so much effort into developing a relationship with me which later left to disappointment. But then again, I feel like it was a valuable life lesson and that lesson was reality. Things aren't always as good as they seem......

Yellow Pants

It was my first day at school, and like anyone going on a new quest, I was nervous, but at the same time excited. As I walked in the classroom I did something that I have never done, I wet myself. I looked around to see if anyone of my fellow classmates had caught me in the act. I looked down at the puddle I had created, and began to cry. 

"What are you crying for Ahfelisha?" asked the teacher.

"Please mam' I replied, please don't be mad, I am so sorry."

I could have got away with it if I had put on the black skirt my mom had suggested I wore, instead of being stubborn, and wanting to wear my yellow pants. All around the crotch and inner thighs of my yellow pants were soaking, and you didn't have to be Albert Einstein to figure out what had happened.

Thankfully my teacher took me quietly away to the bathroom, allowing me to clean myself up.'I will wait outside' she responded, I figured she was aware of my shame and need for some alone time. "Look under the door", she said, There was a bag with the extra clothing my mom had sent. "Tell me when you've done and I'll come back and get you." I cleaned myself up and yelled out for   her and she opened the door slightly to take my hand.

She looked over to me and stated, "It’s okay, we all get nervous for something, smiling." As embarrassed as I was, I did not respond. Before we entered the class room my teacher had stopped, she stood in front of me playfully saying, "Let’s pretend this never happen, It will be our little secret." "What about the other students", I said. "I will explain the reason for your action." 

I walked into to classroom, where I was greeted by my fellow classmates staring eyes. I sat down in my seat with my head down, embarrassed. After a few minutes of nothing but awkward silence, I looked up to find my classmates standing around me. For a second I thought they were going to tell me how disgusting I was, or even laugh in my face, but instead they each gave me a hug. I remember one girl hugging me and telling me, "It's okay we all are nervous." I looked at my teacher, whom I found smiling and nodding at me, letting me know it’s okay. 

Later on that day, my mom had asked how my first day of school, and I had explained what had happen. She gave me a hug and reassured me that my school days would only get better. With her kind words I knew my days at school would only get better, and they did.

Looking back now, I think I would had never gotten over that day if my teacher, and fellow classmates had not responded the way they did. Throughout the time we spent as a class we became a family and nothing was never embarrassing for us to share with one another, and most of it had to do with our teacher. She told us there's no such thing as an embarrassing moment, and as I grew up, I continued to think that way.