AN UNEXPECTED SCREAM MEMOIR
I was young, I was uncontrollable. Hiding in an empty toy box at the end of my father’s bed, I was expecting him to come find me with a smile on his face is what I remember feeling. I must have been three because my mother and father had just separated and were no longer living together. My father’s house lay on the side of a mountain, it was a big log cabin that I would picture Goldy Locks and the three bears to be in. That is what I would imagine sometimes, when I had nothing more to do. This box was quite large. It could easily fit both my younger brother and me inside with some extra room. I was sitting, waiting for my father, waiting for his smile, for his low growl of excitement that he would often make when I surprised him with my childish ways. But I was left alone; I was left with something else that surprised me with tears.
The door opened and shut swiftly after with a screeching sound of pain. The door had always made some sort of noise, at the time I was unaware of why that was, but they were burgundy red with a texture that would leave residue on my hands as I would often touch with a childish curiosity. As the door slammed shut I remember cringing. I remember huddling into a ball expecting what was to come. Sitting in this box, at an unbelievable young age I started to hear my mother’s voice.
“You can’t just take them away from me,” this is all I remember, this is the only thing that I recall being said. After that was said it was like the civil war right in my house. I covered my ears as if I was sitting in a movie theatre watching a horror movie. Tears started to pour out of my eyes like there were garden hoses attached to my head. Screams from one side of the room to the other were smashing my senses to the base of the box that I was huddled in, that I was now hiding in from the anger that float in the air of the room.
My memory is not quite accurate, I might assume, just because I was a youthful three year old girl intending on bringing joy to my father’s eyes. One perfect image I have memorized since this day was the sound of my father’s masculine, deep, loud and frightening voice that crept through the cracks in my hiding conceal at the end of a bed, at my frightening awakening.
From that day on I never looked at my father the same; I never spoke to him the same. I was young; I was unaware of what reality entailed, of what my life was really like. Even though I had no possible idea what was happening, why it was happening, and that my life was not a normal one. As I looked through my eyelids, I was not sure that it was in fact not considered normal for parents to be separated as their children grew up, as their children were scarred from their mistakes. All of my other friend’s parents were together, and that is all I wished as I sat in that tiny masked box that one day my mind grew wiser, and my tears grew larger.

MY FIRST KISS
Heart beating, blood pumping, my mind is racing with the thoughts that I am collecting. I don’t even know how to kiss a boy: I was in first grade, and I stood as the rebellious one out of the crowd. Attending Rockies after school was amusing, it was the most pleasurable thing that I would soon look forward to as I sat in my chair, waiting for the bell to ring, for the papers to be forgotten, for my eyes to gaze at my crush, after school. I remember how he looked back at me, with the slight smirk in his smile, with his perfect hair, he was flawless, he was like a dream to me.
Rockies was the best that day. We played a game of ‘dinosaurs’, (not even kidding) and He insisted that I be the mother dinosaur, he be the father dinosaur, and everyone else be the baby dinosaurs. After I agreed to proceed in this game, I was breathless, I gasped and new that he liked me back, I grinned and had a giant celebration internally. My organs were bouncing around inside like there was a party, my heart was pumping so hard that I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even help set up the game. I remember looking at myself through the big window of the youth care dwelling, it looked like a castle from the outside (that’s what I thought), and starring at my refection, presently so blissful and enthused about what was to come. I stood ecstatic.
I was interrupted by shouts and pillows being thrown, smash; my celebration had ended. I hadn’t realized that everyone had been finished with their preparation for a while now, and that I had been standing there, almost visibly unconscious, almost like I had been hypnotized. As I turned towards where my attention was meant to be headed for, I looked at a colossal mass of pillows; it was formed presently as a house, as a dinosaur family home. Wound up by all of my childish hormones vigorously jumping up and down within my mind with excitement, he grasped my hand and took me inside the house.
That was a fright, a strong second grader’s hand on mine, I was not sure yet if I liked it or if I didn’t. At this point I was just waiting for what was going to happen next. , waiting for something. I was very unaware of what we were doing in this pillow piling that I was in, and why I was in here with just him, oh just him. His smell is one thing that I loved when I was in that house as he came closer and closer to me, scooting his bum under himself towards my Indian Style sitting position. He held both of my hands, my sweaty hands (thus incredibly embarrassing) he looked strait into my eyes and said something that was quite startling. He said something rather alike to, kiss me, then he kissed me. It was the most powerful thing I remember, it was the best feeling I had ever felt in my life until that moment. After he kissed me, he slowly proceeded a foot away from my face then whispered, no, longer. My eyes opened as wide as they could, I didn’t know that he would say that, I didn’t expect him to kiss me a second time, I was an extremely excited young girl. So, in reaction I kissed him for longer. Our lips were attached for a minute almost. Then it ended, and the game of dinosaurs was continued.

THE ONE DAY THAT WILL NEVER BE REENACTED
As The room became louder and became further more intense to everyone’s corrupted mind. It was just a year ago when I got caught, it was just a year ago when my father lost full faith in my ability to gain any sort of trust from him. I was at her house, I was intoxicated, and I will utterly admit that I made a mistake, that I made a life roundabout.
The music was consuming my soul; I was in heaven of a high school students dream. Dozens of people were coming to me and talking, laughing, not themselves; and that is where I went wrong. A beer in hand, and a pile of empty cans lay right under my feet, just as the door was knocked, the door was yelled through. Everyone ran franticly as they understood that the police had just wrecked this version of heaven. My group and I ran to the back house, the guest house was miniature it seemed like, was packed full with frightened high school students scared for their life.
“I will be staying at Kulani’s house dad!” a voice in the background yelled into her phone. It was completely incorrect, and I was aggravated as I realized it was not what the night was about. It was a lie.
Right then I realized that I was in the wrong place, at the wrong time. I had never gotten in trouble with the law, I had never broken the law to this extent ever, never. There I prayed, I wished that I had just been at home and never been put in this situation. I thought for a moment and noone was aware of it. No one was aware that I was in absolute regret. I was the youngest being at this party, late at night, where I should have been with my family, enjoying life at its fullest in a sober state. Now, there is where I went wrong. I remember shaking my head, almost in a state of tears, almost concerning to call my father, and admit my wrong doings. But I didn’t, and there is where I went wrong, again.
Three of my friends and I ran, jumped over the backyard fence and escaped the frightening sound of the police in her house, accumulating beer cans, vodka bottles, and unbearable regret. As we got to the other side of the fence we watched as the cops got into their car, angered at what they didn’t catch, at whom they didn’t bust. My boyfriend at the time was a senior, and he huddled next to me with his giant fur coat, as I did not have any, he warmed me with his body heat, I was now content. I no longer though bad thoughts about what I had done that night, I had not though at what I had not done that night, I really liked this kid, and I though he really liked me.
So we strolled down the street, everyone was in front of my boyfriend and I, we walked together as I grabbed onto his back, flirting, laughing, however we were trashed. I heard a voice behind us, I peered over my shoulder and the cops pulled behind us. As my friends were just three steps infront of us, he didn’t realize that we were fucked over, literally. Juvenile Diversion is what I thought. I was scarred. As the cop interigated us with his bias attitude towards us, he took us both in.
Tears rolled down my face as he held me, kissing my forehead, trying to calm me down, “Its okay Kulani, I’m here with you,” he would repeat himself. He hated to see me cry he said. We pulled up to the station, the police man got out of the car and proceeded to the door, forgetting us both inside. The cop was obiously upset, he said that we had interrupted his dinner with his wife, who was in the car with him. He oppend the door, and let us out. I was sitting in a chair, scared, surprised that it was me who was caught, and not someone else. I was a good kid, I didn’t party too much, and I didn’t want to hear my what dad would rant to me about my mistake.
The station smelled like dog, there lay two microwavable meals on the table that was in the center of the room. An old tellivition was in the top right corner of the room, it was old, and actually useless because the colors were fading, and it seemed like the connection was going out. I sad down, holding my boyfriends hand with all my might, I didn’t know what was to happen next. The cop asked more questions, but personal questions. I was crying so hard that I didn’t even listen to him. My mind soon blacked out for a minute or two, and the next thing that happened was my boyfriends mother was in the room, peering down on me like I had killed someone or something horrible like that. The big, scary man with his ugly wife looked at me, and expected me to tell him that my famly was home, and that they were going to pick me up. There was no way that I was going to have my dad pick me up, he would seriously strangle me. He is a big, like seriously giant Kiwi, with a deep Kiwi accent. He was so intimidating. He and I never get along. He would yell at me, and I would yell back, then I would cry, so I never really talked to him back then, and sadly enough, I currently don’t either.
I told him that my parents were out of town, and that I had no one to go to. I told him that I was suppose to spend the night at a friends house, that I was capable of getting hold of a close family friend. We called everyone, they didn’t answer. Since my mind was in a drunken state I wondered if I wasn’t loved. I wondered if they were not answering for a reason. I was so sad.
I ended up staying at my boyfriend’s house, getting a call the next morning from my father, screaming, it was like my speakers were going to jump out at me. He kicked me out of the house for three months, and I didn’t talk to him one of those days, he was a bastard in my world. But I love him, I cant say that I understand him, but I do love him with my whole heart and soul, he is my father, and I made a stupid mistake that many teens make, it is now part of my life that will never be reenacted, ever.