The Old Photo

Swoosh! The noise of teens scurrying about escaped into the rainy sky. The heavy doors to our cold school stood open like a gateway to freedom. Each kid sporting a different unique outfit, turned the boring grey stairs into a rainbow walkway. I pulled my tired feet out of the noisy building. Today was the horrid day I had to see my ‘father’, a low life man. I enjoyed his nonexistence in my world, but the court systems had other, more important opinions.

My dad’s limo reflected light so bright the kids passing by could not take their eyes off of it. I’d rather sit in a rusted truck than with him. I could see his fake smile from here and smell his expensive cologne making me want to barf on his light leather seats. Standing in front of his car, I already wanted to leave and run for the hills but, something forced me to open the car door. The man before me had eyes so blue the seas would be jealous. My dad’s skin was a flawless tan splattered with freckles, like an artist's masterpiece. His hair as dark as night, could haunt people’s dreams. His posture like a stick. The work clothes he wore fit him like another layer of skin, with his muscles raging out the side.

As I slumped down onto the warm leather, I could not have made it any more obvious I did not want to be here without writing it across my freckled forehead. I took in a large breath and my exhale spoke better than any words.
My dad flashed his fake smile at me. I just rolled my bright blue eyes. He ignored my rude action and began to start his car’s engine and we began to smoothly move forward. His shady glasses reflected the warm sun into my squinting eyes. He softy stretched for the radio. The clearest sign he didn't know what to say to a daughter he hadn't  seen in 14 years, not like I wanted to talk to him anyways. I sneered in disgust at his choice of music, but the fast beat to each dreadful song overlapped my thoughts and I fell into its hypnotizing waves. My eyes had boulders on them and I just couldn't help but let the boulders crumple my eyes. The daze of sleep hazed over my thoughts. My mind in the most peaceful trance.
I felt a shy poke on my shoulder, “We’re here, sweetie!” turning my head in disgust the bright light from the sun burned my eyes and left yellow spots everywhere I looked. My eyes felt heavy. I heard the noise of a car door slamming to my right and my dad slid out into the world. In front of him was the most amazing house, big and brilliant. The white frosted walls shined almost as bright as the glaring sun and the columns outlining the house stood prouder than a new mother.The swoosh of water drifted into my head as a natural fountain danced across the front of the glamorous home. Its water was clearer than a determined person’s thoughts. Surrounding the sparkling palace was neatly trimmed grass, almost to perfection and the bushes seemed to only be more elegant.

I plied open my car door and slithered out, feeling the hard crack-free driveway through my Vans. Swinging my head up, I saw a tall man with hair as dark as my dad’s. His slender body briskly moved to the back of the stopped car and he threw our bags upon himself and headed back to the dazzling door. Closely, I followed, like a shadow into the unfamiliar home.

I paused, staring in awe at the gorgeous bleached walls and the grand staircase that gracefully descended from the second floor. A yellowed family picture hung on the fabulous walls. It was of him and another women. Was I not family? The red snake of carpet under my feet was the only thing here to greet me.

I stood confused on where to wonder first, until the butler sternly approached, “Hello, Madam Jasmine. I will show you to your room.”

It took a second for the words to set into my ears. Madam? I am no madam, I thought, but just smiled like a lost puppy. “Thank you,” a smile crept onto my face.

He turned swiftly and walked up the granite stair case that lurked on like a dark never ending hallway. “Right this way to your room, Madam Jasmine,” he kindly stated.
Hesitantly, I took a step onto the shiny staircase, “Sir, where will I be staying?”

The butler turned from the miles of stairs to the right and walked down an open hallway. He softly reached for the door and glided the door open. “Here,” he plainly stated.
The room was as big as my whole apartment. Walls as white as the house and the marble floors gleamed my reflection. On the other side of the room was a closet so big you could live in it. A chandelier hung bright and proud, its shiny glimmer lighting the whole room. I softly stepped into the room as the butler shut the door leaving me alone in the beautiful room.
I slid over to the bed. It stood before me fit for a king, and colored like the fire that burns in the heart of the wanting. Too cautious to sit down I strolled to the huge pearl dresser and peeked inside. With ease, I slid open the first drawer. Inside the elegant drawer, slumped an old yellow picture in a broken picture frame. Cracks creeped from side to side. There in the picture stood two very familiar people, and me. My heart dropped as my brain processed the information. What I was holding in my hands was a very old photo of my old family. I could feel my eyes swelling red and a sense of sadness rolled up into my sight. I flung myself onto the bed with tears fleeing my swollen eyes. Struggling to breathe between sobs, I felt like I could cry a river. I’ve never wanted my old family back so much as I did in that moment. I wanted happy smiles and I love you’s. What did I do wrong? I didn’t deserve this, I thought as clear memories of the day long ago flooded my thoughts.

It was such a dreadful night, very misty and foggy.I could remember being in my tiny room sleeping heavily when I heard a noise. I awoke softly and waddled down to our apartment kitchen to get a glass of milk. I sluggishly walked to the glasses and swiped one. Suddenly a quick sound startled me from behind. It was my dad with a suitcase.

Confused, I dropped the glass. Startled by his suitcase because he just got back from his business trip. Then reality hit me like a brick. He was leaving. Forever. He pounced for the door and I sprinted after him as fast as my tiny feet could carry me. I pleaded,“Daddy? Daddy? Where are you going? Don’t leave please.”

He found the wooden door and opened it widely and spoke but one single sentence, “Im sorry, Jasmine”. I ran after him so fast, my dark hair following.

“Wait daddy! Please!” I shouted loudly.

My voice was almost gone and a frog-like sound escaped my mouth so quiet I could barely hear it with my 3-year-old ears, “Come back”.

My mother jogged out the door confused and scoped the area, as my dad drove away in his expensive car. She saw me balled up crying my eyes out making halted breathing noises. Without a word, she grabbed me and held me close and rocked me until my cries exhausted me and put me to sleep.

I took a final look at the picture as I could hear my dad saying his goodbyes to my stepmother as she was leaving for a business trip. I was thinking about going down the stairs and slapping her for taking my father away from me such a long time ago, but I contented myself until the flashback played again in my head and I threw the portrait against the floor. The glass flew everywhere. Too tired to pick it up, I fell into a deep sleep on the soft silky bed. One thought dwelled on my mind. Father and I will have much to discuss later.

Slowly I awoke groggy an hour later to the butler calling me down to dinner. Slithering my way out of the covers, I made my way to the door and then down the elegant stairs. Following my nose, I found the kitchen. The scents in the air smelled of honey baked ham and a silky gravy. Once in the kitchen, I found an empty granite chair and fell down onto it, exhaustion still raining over my system. There before me laid granite counter tops and luxurious white wood cabinets. My silent dad sat in front of me.

Maybe now will be the best and only time I could let out my thoughts, “ Why did you leave me?” The words released so suddenly, but it felt so good to let it go from my stirring mind.
“Jasmine, not now,” my dad hissed through his white teeth.
“No! I think now is just as good as any other time,” I sassed strongly.

“I said not now! We are eating,” The violent yelling rang in my ears.

My eyes laid wide open but then the years of hurt built up so high I suddenly burst, “Why did you leave me!? Why did you just walk out!? You have no idea what it’s like growing up poor without a dad! Mom works so hard I never see her! You have no clue how your greed has affected me! Have you had a fun, jolly life these last 14 years, with your lovely rich wife?” I screamed like a mad women, whose thoughts had been anchors on her soul.

“I never meant to hurt you.Your mother was just so poor and unstable. I needed a stable life, and she didn't have it. So I found someone who did,” he murmured as he pushed his deep dark hair back.

Rage filled my pores and I slammed my hands onto the hard table madly, flinging my hands to the right taking my plate and glass with it. CRASH! The glass slid across the floor, “So you just leave?” I was standing up tears blurring my eyes.
My dad stared hard at the table and began to open his mouth, but the words seemed to escape without a sound. The buzz of his cell phone saved him from a likely dumb response. He looked to me and then to his phone and rudely picked it up. My mouth dropped and my eyes grew wide as I crossed my arms. Typical, I thought. Suddenly, my dad’s eyebrows raised high as his eyes moistened. “What!? Oh no! How dare she!” His breaths were strained as he threw his phone franticly, slamming himself into his seat.

I could feel my daze of confusion. “She’s not at the airport or on her way to her business trip,” his blurred words hurt my head. My eyebrow raised. “She’s with another man. She grabbed all of her belongings and piled them into her car while I was getting you and I had no clue. She called to file for divorce,” his tears reflected the kitchen lights and he shook with sadness so great it seemed to engulf him into a lifeless crying state, like a knife to a beating heart. He finally understood my pain, and unlike most people I didn't feel sorry. Honestly, and it hurts but he deserves the pain. That’s the only thing I have known since he left. Pain.

I left him there sobbing madly and sprinted up the long smooth stairs to get my bag from my elegant room. Like an eagle, I swooped in and grabbed my bright pink bag. Taking one final second to observe the faded picture, to savor the life I will never get back. I jogged out of the room and down the sparkling stairs. I was planning to call a taxi and walk to the closest gas station, asking to be picked up there and pay to be taken to my moms’ house. I found the shiny front door and grabbed the flawless doorknob. Swinging my head to take a final look at my depressed father, I asked, “It hurts, doesn't it? The people you love the most leaving you. You see, that’s not love. You lost the people who truly loved you a long time ago. Your greed will only lead to your own destruction.” My final words drifted in the air and I slammed the door so hard the house, as large as a giant, quaked with fear. I shook my head in disappointment. My father had let his greed overthrow him, little did he know it would destroy him and everyone in its path.