Family Secret

           I can sum up the story of my life in two simple words- Pandora’s Box. In my mere fifteen years on this Earth, you would not believe the hellish chaos that has come my way. My family, for some reason or another, hates me. That hatred has brought me to living in a very small room in the basement of their house.

           Awaking in my bed feeling pretty miserable, I just sort of lied there. My bed wasn’t really a bed at all. It was a sorry excuse for one if it was. It was this scrawny green military issued cot. I hated it. One false move in the middle of the night and I’d hit the floor. Lying there for a moment, I stared at the walls vacantly. The walls were covered in various movie posters from some of my favorite movies. You would think that I put them up for my enjoyment. While that may be the case, they are mainly there to cover up the walls. They cover up the reminder of how much my folks actually hate me.  Someone yells very loudly somewhere in the house upstairs. I can’t make out who it is at first. The yelling ensues and the participants end up in the kitchen which is directly above my room. The sounds travel through the air waves slipping through the vents which led into my room.

“Look Lucy, the boy has the right to know. He’s old enough now. I am sure he’ll understand,” my father said.

“He won’t understand Greg. He will hate us even more because we have been lying to him for so long. Do you really want to do that to our family?” my mom asked.

            An awkward pause filled the air. I waited patiently, waiting for what my father had to say in response.

“His real father wants to visit him. This is the fourth time he’s called this week. We can’t keep denying him the chance to see his own son. I don’t care how much of a deadbeat the guy is. He is out of prison now. He is a free man,” my father said.

            A wave of nausea suddenly swam over me. My real father wants to visit me?! My real father…those words hit me like a ton of bricks. For so long I have wondered why I am nothing like this man that has been passed off as my actual father. We look nothing a like. We share different last names. I should have seen it sooner. How could they lie to me? I have a real father out there who wants to see me. What did he do? He just got out of prison apparently. We have something in common already; we both know what it’s like to live in a prison.

            I ran over to my desk across from my bed and grabbed a notebook. Fury breathed life into my bloodstream. There were so many questions that I needed answered. I needed to write. I needed to unleash this anger. If I didn’t do something, I would explode. This was the unveiling of a huge secret. For so long I have felt like something was wrong with me. My parents don’t like me because I have another man’s blood flowing through my veins. Life suddenly made much more sense. Finally, I had some much needed clarity. I filled my diaphragm with as much air as I could muster up, then I yelled loud enough for anyone to hear…

“I can hear everything you are saying down here!”

            I waited for a response. Not one word could be heard. The silence was thick. The AC kicked on and began flowing into my room. Next thing you know, my ears are being filled with the sounds of hurried footsteps running down to the basement. I took a seat on my sorry excuse for a bed and waited patiently. I couldn’t wait to see their faces. I couldn’t wait to hear what lies they would conjure up next. There was no way out of this. They had some serious explaining to do. This was the unveiling of a huge secret. More importantly, this was the unveiling of the future man I was to become.