"Who wants to be a millionaire?!" The host yelled excitedly. His audience roared in response, the contestants becoming more anxious. They looked at each other in anticipation. I sighed and switched the channel, bored out of my mind. It was then that my dad walked in, stomping in anger and slamming the door behind him. I startled and stared at him in confusion. I had never seen him lose his cool like this.
"Pop? You okay?" I asked. He only went to the top drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a smoke, lighting it and taking a deep huff to calm his nerves. He hadn't smoked in years, and I hadn't even known he had cigarettes in there. "Pop!" I yelled. "What the hell?" He glared at me and I sunk back into the couch. He realized this and a look of guilt crossed his face.
"I'm sorry Kristen." He took a deep breath. "I'm just under a lot of stress right now."
"How come?" I asked, standing from my seat the sofa and walking to the other side of the counter where my father stood.
"I got some bad news." He admitted. "I've been searching for jobs for a while now."
"You got fired? Why didn't you tell me?" I panicked.
"I didn't want to worry you..." He confessed. "I know now it was the wrong thing to do. I thought I could get back on my feet but with the job market like it is today, I couldn't find anything."
"What are you getting to?" I raised an eyebrow. I could feel something really, really bad on the tip of his tongue.
"We've been evicted." His eyes fell to the floor, as did my jaw.
"Are you kidding me?!" I gasped. "What about our house?!"
"It's not our house anymore." He gripped the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "We're moving into a trailer tonight."
"What the hell?!" I pounded a fist on the counter.
"Calm down Kristen, it's only temporary."
"Temporary?! You can't hold down a damn job!" I ranted.
"Kristen!" He stopped me. "Not another word. Now go to your room and pack, now!"
"You're such a moron!" I screamed as I ran into my room, slamming the door so hard it shook the house. I slumped down to the floor and buried my face into my hands. "Why me?" I asked, shaking my head. "This is so stupid!" I banged my fist against the door behind me. I looked up and saw my barren room. I had been here for only two years, but I was still attached to the place. This is where I had met my three best friends, this is where I had finally found myself. But my dad was about to rip it away in a matter of minutes.
"Are you packing?" He knocked on the door. I stood up, furious, and grabbed a box from my closet, throwing all of my few possessions inside and grabbing my skateboard separately.
"Done." I hissed, opening the door and dropping the box in front of him.
"Now I know you're upset, and for good reason, but this will only be harder if you're--" My dad began.
"Let's just go." I picked up my box and went outside, setting it in the truck. Our stuff was already in there, my dad had begun packing the day before. He came outside after me with the keys and turned on the car, me in the passenger seat. As we backed out of the driveway I felt my throat well up and my eyes become watery. I swallowed my tears, not wanting my dad to see any emotion from me.
We arrived at the Park-n-Flush trailer park and wove through the sad-excuse of a road that split it down the middle. We finally arrived at a tiny, white trailer and he turned the ignition off. He stepped outside but I stayed put, only staring at our new home. This was terrible, that thing didn't even look big enough to hold one person, let alone two. My thoughts were broken when he knocked on the door. "I'm going!" I huffed, stepping out of the truck and grabbing my stuff form the back. I followed my dad into our new home and looked around in pure revulsion. Water stains were everywhere, smells of the unspeakable filled the air and a few unidentifiable remains of scum littered the entire place. I was motionless.
"Move." My dad broke my thoughts. I did as he asked, but as angrily as possible. I threw my things onto the sofa and turned to him.
"Where's my room?" I asked. My dad only pointed to the couch.
"It's a pull-out." He informed. My eyes went wide.
"I don't have a room?!"
"I told you to calm down!"
"Calm down?! Calm down?! You just ripped me away from my friends and threw me into a crap-hole." I yelled.
"You're only half-a-mile from the cul-de-sac." He rolled his eyes.
"So? That house was special! It's was our first house away from mom!"
"And this is our second house away from mom."
"Oh my god!" I exclaimed in pure frustration, ripping my box open and throwing all of the clothes inside onto the couch. My dad only retreated into what I assumed to be his room. It wasn't fair, he just threw me out of my own house and he gets the private room? I just silently stuffed my clothing into the tiny dresser next to my bed. When I got the bottom of my box, containing my CDs, video-games, movies, books and comics I arranged them into the cabinet over my "bed". Then I unfolded the sofa into a bed and flopped down on it, arms crossed in defiance. My dad emerged from his room to find me as ticked as I was when he left. He let out a sigh and sat next to me.
"I'll get a job soon." He promised. I only ignored him, pulling out my Walkman and plugging the headphones into my ears, pretending to listen to my music. He shook his head and walked out of the door, driving off into town to get his mind off of the bad situation.