MEMOIRIST IDOL
Little Girl Locked Out
She was begging to be let inside
When I was 9, we moved inland from the beach, which meant the weather was warmer. It was a shock to our systems.
Once you move away from a beach town, the houses are cheaper and newer but the downside is the weather.
My grandmother had just passed away and Cathy, my birth mother, really thought she won the lotto with her inheritance. Some people, like her, go on a spending spree when they come into a big chunk of cash.
We purchased a brand new home months earlier that wasn’t even built yet. After touring the model homes and picking out the finishes, the construction began.
For some reason, I was like a kid in a candy store in those model homes. I’ve loved looking at houses ever since. Different architecture finishes and decorations always interest me.
While Cathy and my step-dad talked with the builders, I would roam the model homes, pretending I was someone else. I would come up with scenarios in my mind and have a full-on fantasy field day.
I would run upstairs and sit at the desk in the faux little girl’s room. It was pink and white, everything I’d dreamed of. I changed my name and my identity in that room, wishing that I would move into this home with a different family.
The little girl that would live in this room is happy with a loving family. Her mom would be downstairs baking and would call her down to help.
She would have her friends over, where there would be sleepovers full of fun and laughter.
It was a dream and I fantasized that my new room would be this retreat. It would be the same room in the model home, but it would not be the same.
All of the dark days that led up to this move would soon flood back in. It wouldn’t take long. The façade never lasted very long.
The day came when the house was finished and move-in ready. School was out for summer and I wouldn’t return to any of the same friends. I would be the new girl when September rolled around.
On the day we moved in is when the shock came to our systems. The heat was unbearable to be moving in, standing at 110 degrees.
Good thing we had air conditioning.
Once we got all settled into the brand new home with mauve accents and desert-themed decorations, I began to set up my room.
I wanted it to resemble the beautiful girl's room at the model home.
From the looks of it, Cathy did, too. She began frantically cleaning and decorating the house. She was obsessed.
The house always had to be spotless. One thing out of place would send her over the edge. She would vacuum the carpet into straight lines and you didn’t dare make a footprint on the carpet.
Pretend like you don’t even live here. A mess was unacceptable.
The mess came from within her. She was a hot mess most of the time so I think that the need to control what the house looked like made her feel like she was in control of the messy situation we were all living in.
Alcohol and drugs took over her life and my step-dad went along for the ride. But, if the house was spotless then no one would know what was really going on inside those walls.
The heat sweltered throughout the summer in our new town, which made it hard to go outside and meet new friends.
No, there weren’t cell phones yet.
The summer came and went, I met one friend on the street but it was time to be the new girl on the first day of school.
I met a girl from my little neighborhood and we instantly became best friends. A few weeks after school started, we began hanging out after school, riding bikes around the neighborhood.
When it got too hot to bear, we would retreat to her house and I would bring up the idea of going to the model homes. They would remain open as a blueprint to make a new home sale.
Check out the model home to see what your brand new home could be, and then you would want to purchase the home. The model home was enticing.
It enticed me as a little girl and I kept going back for more.
If the sales agent at the office was busy, we could sneak in and roam around, playing make-believe that we lived there under any story that we chose.
My friend loved it, too, and we both came to love visiting that little girl's room in the model home. We would pretend that we were sisters that grew up in that house together.
The mom would not be mine. Hers was a better choice.
It would start to get dark, and we’d get on our bikes, say goodbye and we went back to our real-life families.
Chaos filled the air like a thick smoke that mixed in with the two-pack-a-day habit of the adults that I lived with. Or, were they adults?
They didn’t act like adults, yet a bunch of irresponsible teenagers that didn’t know how to handle life.
The drugs and alcohol-fueled fits of rage and abuse were ever-present yet somehow the house always stayed immaculate.
As the days started rolling into one and the noise got louder, I never knew what I would be coming home to after school.
Would there be yelling, erratic cleaning and vacuuming, punches through the walls, or the silent treatment? I never knew what mood I would get and soon I began to wonder if I could come inside after a long day of school.
A record 110-degree day in September made me rethink if I really liked living here. I got home from school to find my golden retriever locked out in the backyard.
She makes way too much of a mess with her hair that sheds all over. The sweetest dog I’d ever met was panting violently out in the dirt backyard that we hadn’t landscaped yet.
For a second, I thought, if she is locked out of the house then I am probably, too. The front door was locked and when I knocked, there was no answer.
I went back into the yard and around to the glass slider, where Cathy was standing while smoking. I guess she was taking a break from her excessive cleaning.
My sad eyes caught her evil gaze and she started rambling on, shaking her head and then screaming that I wasn’t going to be coming inside.
Go find something to do, she says.
The tears welled up inside while sweat began to drip down my back and my legs. My heavy backpack in hand and with no idea where I should go, I walked back out front.
My face beat red and I was thirsty, wondering if this is what they called a “heat stroke”. I had to get into a cool home and fast.
I could show up at my new friend's house but I was embarrassed.
The model home!! I almost forgot about my safe haven. I began walking up the hill, getting hotter by the minute, and over to the beautiful, inviting home.
The sales office was buzzing with a few families, thank goodness. I was able to sneak right into my little girls' retreat and ran up there to hide. I had nowhere to go so I couldn’t risk getting caught.
I crouched in the corner of the room and the tears flowed. Why couldn’t this be my house with my pretend family? I continued to pray and pray but nothing ever happened.
I think that is one of the last times I prayed for a long time. After that, I was jaded.
Each time this would happen and I’d be at the make-believe home, and yes it happened frequently, the more hopeless I would feel.
Who continuously locks their child out of the house after school because it can’t get messy? And, in the sweltering heat?! It’s almost as if she wanted to watch me and our dog suffer out in the dirt backyard.
I’m happy to say now that eventually those days came to an end when I moved out of her house after a horrific day and my prayers were finally answered. Although, I never really did pray much after those days.
The universe, my dad, and my step-mom did save that little girl that was locked out and I’ll forever be grateful.
Thinking back now, I was locked out from the moment I came into this world. Cathy locked everyone out of her life, including her children because of her selfish ways. No one was more important than her and her perfect home.
The little girl that was once locked out is now a part of, in many other different ways, but none of them include her.
This story is in response to the prompt from KiKi Walter and her lovely publication The Memoirist.
I was inspired, and always am, by the talented Jenny Lane. She opens and bares her soul in this story about when she lived in Venice, California, just a stone's throw from where I live now. She opens up about some scary, tragic events that took place in her life but that also transformed her into the amazing person she is today.
Please check out her winning story here.
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Thanks for reading!
Much love, Michele