Father,

 

You are

someone who

only cares about

himself. When I

was two, you

decided

that a

having

a family

was not for you. My mom picked up her

life and moved four hundred and seventy miles

away  from you. As a young kid, I was too naive to  see

the    negative effects of you in my life. At six    years

old,     I dreaded spending the summer with you     down

in     Louisiana, but the court had ordered it. They   did

not     understand my situation. On weekdays you    would

drop     me off at my grandma’s at seven and pick    me up

at five.   Everyday she told me I was fat, I needed to   eat less,

and    I needed to fit into smaller clothes. She would    then

proceed     to tell me my mom was a horrible person. All    the while

she would   make up lies to back up her claims. The worst   part was

you knew   she did this but still dropped me off there Monday   through

Friday.  On weekends however, you and I spent time  together,   like

every     little girl dreams. Instead of playing dress up, we      went

to bars for the afternoon. You would meet up

with your friends inside while I was stuck outside

by myself because indoors was “21 only”. You

would have a couple beers… or ten. I am sure

you told yourself it       was okay. It was not.

                                            On the drive home        you would swerve into

                                            the other lanes.               I was scared for my

         life. On the off                chance that you

    didn’t go out drinking          with your buddies.

     We would sit on            the couch in silence

    and watch your                      shows. I was not

   allowed to touch   the remote. After a

 half hour I would   slink away into my

           room to call my mom                  and tell her how much

            I missed home. She     wanted me to be

           home; I wanted to    be home. However,

          the court decided                             I had no say in the          

         matter. The decision     was yours. This was

          my summer for                                 twelve years, but     

        I turned eighteen in          November. The

       court is done making        decisions regarding    

        my life, and so are           you. I will never

        spend time with         you again. You had

      your chance and now it is      gone. I can not control that

     you are my father but I can      control who I call Dad. You

     are not it. You never will       be. This is my goodbye

 

With the utmost sincerity,

 

Avery

 

Father,

 

 

You are

someone who

only cares about

yourself. When I

was two, you

decided

that a

having

a family

was not for you. My mom picked up her

life and moved four hundred and seventy miles

away  from you. As a young kid, I was too naive to  see

the    negative effects of you in my life. At six    years

old,     I dreaded spending the summer with you     down

in     Louisiana, but the court had ordered it. They   did

not     understand my situation. On weekdays you    would

drop     me off at my grandma’s at seven and pick    me up

at five.   Everyday she told me I was fat, I needed to   eat less,

and    I needed to fit into smaller clothes. She would    then

proceed     to tell me my mom was a horrible person. All    the while

she would   make up lies to back up her claims. The worst   part was

you knew   she did this but still dropped me off there Monday   through

Friday.  On weekends however, you and I spent time  together,   like

every     little girl dreams. Instead of playing dress up, we      went

to bars for the afternoon. You would meet up

with your friends inside while I was stuck outside

by myself because indoors was “21 only”. You

would have a couple beers… or ten. I am sure

you told yourself it       was okay. It was not.

                                             On the drive home        you would swerve into

                                             the other lanes.               I was scared for my

          life. On the off                chance that you

     didn’t go out drinking          with your buddies.

  We would sit on              the couch in silence

    and watch your                    shows. I was not

  allowed to touch   the remote. After a

 half hour I would    slink away into my

          room to call my mom                and tell her how much

             I missed home. She wanted me to be

            home; I wanted to    be home. However,

           the court decided                          I had no say in the          

          matter. The decision      was yours. This was

           my summer for                                 twelve years, but     

         I turned eighteen in           November. The

        court is done making         decisions regarding    

         my life, and so are           you. I will never

        spend time with          you again. You had

     your chance and now it is       gone. I can not control that

    you are my father but I can       control who I call Dad. You

      are not it. You never will        be. This is my goodbye.

 

With the utmost sincerity,

 

Avery