Iowa, Age 18
I moved into Twyla's and Ted's. Ted is Heather's biological father, but they really only reconnected when she got into adulthood. Twyla is his wife. In all aspects, they are my grandparents, but I never saw them that way.
Moving in with them wasn't what I wanted, but it was better than nothing. I wanted out of Oklahoma. I thought, naively, that this could be the start of something new and good.
But instead, I found myself trapped in a similar position that I had in Oklahoma.
I did the dishes.
I did the laundry.
I watched their granddaughter.
I wanted an escape—a new beginning. I wanted to go to college and get a job. Instead, I was back to being a babysitter and a housekeeper.
When I was there, Twyla always made me feel like I was an inconvenience, like I was a burden. She'd get on to me about staying up late, even though I woke up at a semi-decent hour, and still helped her with the chores. I'd ask her or Aunt Kim or Uncle Sam to teach me to drive, but no one did. I didn't feel welcomed.
I shouldn't have been surprised at what happened.
Ted came barreling into my bedroom on Halloween, my favorite holiday. He was at least six feet tall, and his coming in like that startled me. I looked up at him from the computer screen.
"Where are they?" he demanded.
"Where are what?" I asked, confused.
I had heard that Ted had a temper. He was a heavy drinker years ago, but now he didn't even touch alcohol. This was the first time I'd seen that temper. I'd only been there for a few weeks, but Ted seemed nice. He was a quiet, soft-spoken, and calm man. We watched NCIS together in the living room and laughed at DiNozzo and McGee's antics. It was a pleasant bonding experience, but I didn't see that man in front of me.
He rambled on about how he was missing the pain pills for his back and accused me of taking them.
I blinked. "I didn't take them," I said. My voice was steady and sure. I hadn't taken the pills. I was shocked that he was blaming me.
"Don't lie to me!" He yelled. I flinched. "Pack your things. I'm not having this shit."
"I didn't take them," I said again.
"Now you're lying to me. Pack your damn things." He walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I couldn't help the tears. I hadn't taken the pills. I wouldn't have taken them. I had never been a party girl. I'd never had anything stronger than marijuana and shisha. Other than a few weeks ago when I had a migraine. Twyla gave me half a pain pill to help, but I didn't like it. The dosage was wrong, and I had a horrible, trippy experience where I ended up calling one of my friends from Oklahoma to calm me down. I told Ted and Twyla about that experience and how I wouldn't be taking that pain medicine again.
Twyla came in a few minutes later and sat down. "Keely, did you take the pills?" Unlike Ted, she didn't yell. Her voice was calm, matter of fact. She had already decided I'd taken the pills before I could say I didn't because I hadn't taken the pills.
"No," I said firmly.
She sighed. "You don't have to lie to me. It's okay if you did. You just have to tell us the truth."
But I was telling the truth? I couldn't believe her. "I didn't take the pills." I paused. I almost didn't say what I did next, but in for a penny, in for a pound. "Perhaps it was Sam. You said he's taken them before."
In fact, Twyla did say that. She said that Ted has had that problem with her daughter Kim and Kim's husband Sam taking Ted's pills.
She shook her head. "Keely."
I didn't like the way she said my name.
"I didn't take them!" I yelled. I couldn't help but cry, tears streaming down my face. I was angry, and for some reason, that anger was connected to my tear ducts.
I didn't take the pills. I wouldn't take them. (Later, after I was home, I'd tell this story to my brother Tristan. He'd be pissed off on my account. "If anyone would take the pills, it would be me, not you," he'd say with a self-deprecating chuckle.)
Twyla stood up. "Pack your things. Ted is taking you home tomorrow."
I tried to call Heather, but she didn't answer. I called Laura, my mother's cousin, and explained the situation to her. She said she'd come and get me. I did not want to return to Oklahoma, and Laura knew that. But Ted and Twyla refused to let Laura come get me. They threatened to call the cops on her if she showed up.
The next day Ted drove seven and half hours straight to Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. We listened to Cher the entire ride. He tried to talk to me a few times, but I refused to talk to him. Instead, I sang "Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves" under my breath and stared out the window.
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