Divorce

Love Isn’t Always Black and White It was two years after the millennium, and things were great; Spider-man was the year’s box-office best seller, and president Bush signed into the “No Child Left Behind Act,” but just like US Airlines filing bankruptcy my life was about to change greatly and in a negative way. I remember it like it happened only yesterday, my mom always used to randomly treat me to a Wendy’s frosty, and a day out for the two of us girls. Although it wasn’t just a usual girls day out; instead we drove into an unfamiliar neighborhood, stopped outside of an unfamiliar house, and to my surprise I saw an all too familiar truck. The truck was my father’s, and he looked as though the woman he was ushering inside was sick, or hurt in some way. “Stay in the car Aimee,” was all my mother said as she grabbed her camera and headed towards the house. As my mother walked towards the house, further ahead of me I noticed my brothers red Chevy Camaro. As my mother started snapping pictures of my father and this mystery woman, they rushed inside. My father then stormed out of the house, and because my window was mostly up, I did not quite hear what was said. I know a lot of yelling was involved between all three of my family members, and then my dad began to head my way. My brother had gotten to my window before my dad did, and almost immediately he screamed at me to roll my window up. “Aimee, don’t listen to what they’re saying,” my father told me. “Roll the fucking window up, now!” was all my brother would say. Both confused, and scared I did what I was told and rolled my window completely up. After some time my mother got in the car, turned on some Jack Johnson, and began to drive away. It wasn’t until a few years later that I had finally figured out what was happening. Although before that happened, things only escaladed. It had been only a few months before I realized things were really changing. My brother was never home, and it seemed to me as though I was losing something, not quite able to put my little finger on it. Not until the night of the car show at Bruster’s; every Tuesday night me and my sister would go with my brother to see dozens upon dozens of old hot rods with their hoods up and music jammin’. It was getting to be late, and my brother came up and told us it was time to go home, now. As we got in the car and pulled out of the parking lot it wasn’t until a few miles down the road I saw all of the cars were appearing to play follow-the-leader, as they made every turn as we did. Once we arrived home, me and my sister were told from both our mother and brother to go upstairs and not come back down for the night. Again, doing as I was told, I followed my sister up the stairs and went into my room. Being the curious 12-year-old girl I was I ventured through the bathroom and went into my sisters room. It was as if we were playing a guessing game trying to figure out what was happening outside, there were cars parked up and down the street, all of the owners being my brother’s friends. My sister and I began to look through her window trying to distinguish the faces of who was who in the dimly star-lit sky. One by one, each face disappeared into the night and behind some shrubbery. Shortly before we were about to give up and put the blinds down, we heard a loud motorcycle engine roaring down the street, which turned out to be my father’s burgundy Harley Davidson that had been missing from our garage since the previous night. Before my dad had even gotten completely up the driveway and into the garage I saw a short, stocky figure head from behind a tree to the top of our driveway. More and more faces came from out of the darkness, and a few came between my dad and the figure from behind the tree. Once my mom finally came from the front door and out of the house some lights flew on and I saw the short, stocky person I had seen was my brother. Although his friends were doing him a huge favor and holding him back, he was still swinging his fists. With the window now slightly open, we heard my mother’s voice. Shaky at first, yet gaining confidence with each word spoken, “I’ll give you fifteen minutes to pack a bag, and then I do not even care where you go! If you want…you could go to her house for Pete’s sake!” was what I heard my mother screaming to my dad. My brother, and his posse began patronizing and harassing my father it seemed. The time only lengthened of how long they were all out outside, inside however, doors were being slammed left and right. Too frightened of what was happening around us to do anything, me and my sister stayed barricaded in her room with our eyes glued to what was going on outside the garage, when from the corner of my eye I saw something flutter into the air and then as soon as it came out and up, fall right back onto the misty grass. Both my sister’s head and mine jerked to the right just in time to see the rest of my dads socks, ties, shirts, and underwear all fly into the air and back down in the same manner as before. “There, I imagine that’s all you will need for the next few days!” my mother exclaimed before walking back inside and slamming yet another door. All I remember happening next was looking over to see my sister, surprised to find tears streaming down her young, innocent face. I felt a smirk fill up my face, and let a giggle slip, but wasn’t really quite sure why. It may have been my adolescence, and the fact I never really understood what was happening to my family. My sister on the other hand was coming on sixteen, and was finally getting a grasp on the situation unfolding around her. At some point between the clothes blanketing the grass, and my sisters small breakdown, the cops arrived and my mother was forced to help pick up some of the clothing, mind you it could have just been a sock or two. After the incident of my father almost being beaten to a pulp, everything seemed to have happened in sequence; first he moved into the downstairs guest bedroom, and shortly after I didn’t hardly ever see my dad as often as I had previously had up to the night of the car show. Now my parents have been divorced five, almost six years and it seems as though it has always been this way. Unfortunately, I had to see it in one of the most difficult and painful ways, but I came to see that love is not always like the black and white movies. People fall in and out of love, and through that process some toes get stepped on, although it may not be intentional. Unfortunately that experience has affected me in a mostly negative way, but I’ve learned to find the positive things out of every situation. I’ve found that true love may not come as often as we used to see in the movies, and definitely not as easily either! People don’t just run into each other on the subway, create endless conversation, and fall in love, or at least true love. My parents have helped me see that people do change, and with that life will change as quickly. So try to take life by the reigns and hold on tight, for it will be a crazy, intense, sometimes sickening, but always well worth taking ride.