I've been writing with the Odyssey for almost a year now, and I never expected it to become such a big part of who I am. I love being able to express myself and share it with others. As we try to grow and build our community, it's interesting to look back on the way I wrote years ago. This is a piece from my creative writing class my senior year of high school:
It is only ten o’clock in the morning and Kevin already woke up on the wrong side of the bed. It’s Saturday, the only day he is allowed to see his five year old son, Greg, and his ex-wife, who recently gained full custody, is already trying to take that away too. The main reason Kevin lost custody in the first place was because he was ordered to go to Alcoholics Anonymous, which of course he refused to do, since he obviously does not have a drinking problem. The other requirement for visitation rights was to move out of the musty motel with hourly rates, and find a better environment to see Greg. That was reasonable, and Kevin moved into a house two nights ago, out in the middle of nowhere with no neighbors for miles around, in a place where no one could bother him.
Considering Kevin didn’t have many important possessions, as he lost the majority of them in the divorce, he only took the necessities. That included food, toiletries, an inflatable mattress, clothes, and a few other little things, at least until he settled in better. The house was fairly small, with two bedrooms and one bathroom, but big enough for him. The family that lived in the house before him had all went their separate ways, and the house had been vacant for years. The hardwood floors creaked under his weight as he paced back and forth trying to decide what to say to his ex-wife. A chill surged through him as the wind came through the broken windows. When Kevin first looked at the house, he had no doubt it was the perfect fit for him. It was in a reclusive area, and big enough for one, but away from the rest of the world so everyone would mind their own business. Now though, actually waking up in it, he realized there was an eeriness to it, an emptiness.
Kevin walked outside into the bitter November air and finally broke down to make the call. It rang twice, and then went to voicemail, the call rejected. He instantly became furious, slamming his fist against the front door. How could she ignore a call from the father of her child? He dialed again, rejected. One last time, and she picked up. “Hello?,” Emma said innocently, as if she didn’t know who was calling. “So when are you dropping off Greg?,” Kevin quickly replied, not wasting any time. There was a pause. “I moved into a new house Emma. You can’t take him away from me. I have rights too,” Kevin said, rushing the words out before she could say no. Emma hesitated before saying, “Kevin you are still drinking.” “I am not drunk. Greg is with me today. I’ll see him in an hour,” Kevin stated, and then without waiting for a response, hung up. There was no use trying to communicate with her. All he could do was wait and see.
Kevin walked inside, slamming the door, and went to the refrigerator to grab something to satisfy his hunger. Opening the fridge to see the dim, flickering light, he saw that the only thing he had was TV dinners and beer. He grabbed a Bud Light and went outside to sit on the porch bench, which looked as though it had been through some wear and tear. Kevin didn’t normally enjoy the outdoors, but at least it was quiet. Before he knew what hit him, he passed out on the bench, snoring with an empty beer bottle in his hand. When Emma and Greg pulled up in their minivan, Kevin was startled awake, and he quickly hid his beer bottle behind the bench, knowing what Emma would say.
Emma got out, looking ravishing, and opened the back door so Greg could get out. Greg hopped out of the van smiling, with a backpack full of things to entertain him. Greg latched onto his mother’s hand as they walked over to Kevin. Emma started going on about what Greg likes to eat, his allergies, numbers to call if there’s an emergency, and Kevin was instantly offended. “You realize he’s my son too, right? I’m his father, not a babysitter,” Kevin sneered. Emma nodded solemnly and told Greg that she would be back for him after dinner. Greg walked over to his father, expectantly, as if Kevin had a day of fun planned. In all honesty though, Kevin had not expected to get this far and had nothing to entertain a five year old. They walked inside the empty house as Emma backed out of the long driveway.
“Dad, what are we doing today?,” Greg asked, looking up at Kevin smiling. “Uh, I don’t really know yet, what do you want to do?,” Kevin replied, barely paying attention. “Let’s look around the house!,” Greg said, excited as he dropped his backpack at the front door. Greg started going through the rooms and Kevin followed. “Where’s all your stuff?,” Greg asked, confused. Kevin responded, “Well I haven’t really moved in yet, and I don’t have a lot of furniture.” “Where’s the TV?,” Greg wondered aloud, already bored. “No TV yet,” Kevin said, walking to the fridge to grab another beer. Greg sighed and went to get his backpack, taking out a few toy cars. Kevin saw that Greg had lost interest, and didn’t want him to give a bad report back to Emma, or else he would never see his son again. “You know, I’ve been through most of the house, and it is pretty much empty, but I haven’t been up in the attic yet,” Kevin said, trying to think of something to do. Greg perked up, grinning, and put his cars back in his bag. “Let’s go.”
As they walked towards the attic, Kevin pulled the string and the ladder came down, clouds of dust following. The ladder creaked as Greg climbed up, Kevin right behind him. Once they were inside the humid attic, Kevin saw that the previous owners had left behind boxes and bins, while Greg walked around slowly, taking it all in and deciding where to start. The boxes were filled to the brim with miscellaneous items, junk that the previous family was too lazy to care about. It was all worthless, but Kevin knew that Greg would be easily amused by the trinkets. Greg went from box to box, searching through the contents, but only briefly distracted by them.
After Greg dug through five or six boxes, he spotted an old suitcase behind them. Trying, and failing, to move the boxes, Greg called Kevin to help, who up until this point, was too busy paying attention to the beer in his hand. Kevin walked over to see what he needed, moving the boxes out of the way. Greg ran over to the antique suitcase and opened it up like a treasure chest. “Dad come here! Look at all of this!,” Greg shouted. Kevin put his beer down and crouched down next to Greg, who began to go through the suitcase. The suitcase was filled with memories from different places across the country. Greg pulled out a crumpled Disneyland map, looking intently at all the attractions. He took out a scrapbook filled with pictures from a cross country trip, flipping through. There was a small shoebox, with snowglobes from Cape Cod, the Bronx Zoo, the Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C., and so many more. Each one, he picked up and shook, watching the snow fall to the bottom.
There were souvenirs from all these different places that someone had seen firsthand, while Greg had never even been out of the state. “Dad, where’s the best place you’ve ever been?,” Greg inquired, with a new found curiosity for life outside of their little town in New Hampshire. Kevin took a second to think about it, before realizing that he was born here, and never left, other than a trip 40 years ago to Disney World. “Well, I guess I haven’t been very many places, or seen very many things,” Kevin admitted. Greg looked at his father, his wheels turning. “When I grow up, I’m going to travel the world,” Greg decided. “Good luck with that kid. When you’re older you’ll understand that life never works out how you want it to. Life sucks,” Kevin said, harshly. Greg looked away, tears glistening in his eyes. “I want Mom,” Greg said, determined. “You’ll see her after dinner. You just got here. Don’t you miss me?,” Kevin asked. “I want to go home, Dad.”
Kevin gave in, realizing this day wasn’t going anywhere. He went downstairs and called Emma, avoiding his shame by making up plans that he couldn’t cancel. Emma didn’t argue, and said that she would be there in twenty minutes. Kevin popped open a beer and went to get Greg ready to leave. They sat in silence as they waited for Emma to arrive, and when she pulled up in front of the house, Greg ran out of the house, cocooning himself in his mother’s arms. Emma and Greg walked back to Kevin under the porch stoop as it started to drizzle. “We’ll see you next Saturday,” Emma said, speaking for Greg. “Bye Dad,” Greg said half-heartedly, looking at the ground. Kevin didn’t say anything, but just nodded and stood there staring, with hollow eyes. He watched them back out, and drive away, standing there as the rain began to come down harder.
Kevin walked back inside his empty house, letting the door slam behind him. He took another beer from the fridge and walked up the attic ladder, going over to the suitcase, that still lay open, its contents scattered about. He sat, surrounded by the memories of places he would never see. A single tear fell onto the scrapbook, as the rain echoed off the roof. Kevin threw his empty beer bottle at the wall, watching it shatter, and then turned, leaving the attic and closing it up. He walked to the living room where his suitcase sat, filled with clothes and hidden beneath, a gun. Tears streamed down his face as he realized all the things that he would never be. He looked around the empty room one last time before shutting his eyes, putting the gun against his head, and pulling the trigger.
