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Essay on Personal Narrative-The Other Woman

2390 East Huntsville Road, I was 5 years old and use to my dad never being around always working until 3 am at his work. I don’t remember waking up with my dad being home, but that had been life since I can remember. What I do remember is that I consider it the worst day of my life. I was 6 years old at the time, I got picked up from school by my mother who had a very cold look on her face the car ride home, but I didn’t think much of it. She was an adult and adults got upset easily. When we pulled into the drive I got out and I was excited to share my day with her, today for me was like every other day.

But something was different, my father was home. My dad and mom asked me to come into their room for a minute, the minute lasted a lifetime, I looked between the two of them constantly asking what was going on, I never got an answer. Once I took the time to look around I saw the papers that were tear stained that were previously crumbled up. At the top I saw the word divorce in big bold letters screaming at my. Being only 6 my version of divorce is when the father leaves the mom and child forever. Naturally I started to cry, but the crying never went away.

I wasn’t able to deal with this transition by myself, that got me put into seeing the counselor everyday for my 1st grade year at Happy Hollow. I was already the kid with the speech impediment, the girl that looked like a boy, due to my lack of hair, and now I was the youngest kid in the school that had gone through a divorce. I would constantly have breakdowns about what happened and be sent to the counselors to cry about it. That was a great way to get labeled the emotionally unstable girl at a very young age. 555

West Warehouse Drive, was where my dad had moved to, which was his metal fabrication shop. He built a second story and created an apartment out of it, but it was not a home. I had got into the routine of going to stay the night at my dad’s on tuesdays and fridays. I must say that I became exceptional at packing an overnight bag. There was this woman Jane who shared my dads shop, she would hold her art classes there. I really enjoyed being around Jane. She had amazing talent and was always complementing me on my art when it was horrible.

My father sat me down one day and I found out that she was my soon to be step mom. After this information was given me I wanted to ask questions. The questions were only directed to my counselor, and of course she would never have the answers I was looking for. I decided that I wasn’t going to mention the divorce to my mom because that would just make her cry. I eventually decided to just live with what I knew and went on living the most normal life I could. Throughout the years I had gotten use to the idea of Jane always being around. 5000 Finger Road, was where my dad and Jane bought a house.

I was 7 the first time I was able to go stay the night. Everything was great, I had my own bed, my own room, and a pool and a hot tub. My dad had definitely bought my love back for the time being. My dads house was the place I would be. I would invite friends over to stay the night, I finally got out of the hole that I was placed into. Things were great until I was 10 and the questions started to eat away at me again. I started to ask my mom questions like, “How did daddy meet jane? ”, “Do you think there was other things going on before the divorce? , “Did daddy cheat on you? ”, and that last question was the one that answered everything.

Again I got sat down on my moms bed, I knew this was going to be bad. Only bad things happened when my parents asked me to sit. She started to explain how my dad had left a note for my mom in the bathroom a week before I found out about the divorce. The note said that he had ran away with Jane to go to Mardi Gras and that he was filing for divorce papers. That new fact about what happened ruined me, because I remember my father bringing me tons of these necklaces from mardi gras.

I could no longer look at those necklaces with pleasure, now only with disgust and hatred of what they symbolized. That was the end of my questions, from then on I stopped questioning things and just ignored the facts that told me what kind of a man my father really was. Everything was fantastic until I was 14 years old. I had fallen in love with a guy that had been a part of my life since preschool. The relationship was everything to me, he gave me friends, our families got along great, we were constantly be hanging out with one another and eachothers family.

About a year later my dad and Shwana, my boyfriends mother, started to start hanging out more when we were together also. One day I had gotten into my dads email and saw a message from Shawna. It had been a photo of her exposed with a long message asking “him” to come home because she missed this “him”. Being about 15 I went right to the worst. I thought this “him” was my father. I went straight to my mom and told her what I saw. I was worried that I would get in trouble for looking at my dads email so we said that it was sent to me in a text message.

That then lead to my mom calling shawna and asking her what it was about. The story goes that this “text message” was supposed to get sent to her husband instead of my father and I. That was when I knew that she was lying because it was sent as an email instead of a text. We then confronted my dad and I had looked at before him so he had no idea what I was talking about. A couple days went on and I didn’t tell anybody what had happened, not even my current boyfriend.

Things died out, but I still kept a close eye on my dad and shawna. 262 South School Avenue, my dad and jane decided to sell the house and move into our new shop. It was much easier to get into my dads email this was, I read a very long message from shawna about how she knows that they can’t be together but how they are meant to be together. After reading that email I lost it. I left the shop and was headed back home to tell my mom that my father hadn’t stopped seeing my boyfriend’s mom. My mom once again called my dad and he decided to come over to my house and talk about what had happened.

He went into a big long story about how he was going to meet up with her occasionally and they were “only” talking. My mom snapped back with the comment that he better not be lying to us. That just lead to even worse things. My dad continued to tell us how he and shawna met to have sex, but he just felt so bad and felt like it was so wrong which caused him to not be able to get “it” up. I was utterly disappointed in my dad. First of all you are cheating on your wife, but the worst part is that you are cheating on your wife with your daughters very serious boyfriends mother.

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