Dangerous Waters Unexpected Love

It's All Your Fault

Chapter 3

Calissa’s POV

These last few weeks have been very eye-opening for me. I graduated from my junior year of high school a little over two weeks ago. I only have my senior year to go. My mother held me back a year, for completely unknown reasons. I officially started school at six years old. I do very well at school, but I doubt that it was because I started late. I already had numerous credits earned. I only needed to earn one more to be able to graduate.

I could have pushed harder to graduate early. I could have taken another class, but I had a lot on my plate with volunteering, school, work, and chores at home. I pushed as hard as I could to get everything done. But I knew that I still needed time to save up more money for college. I also needed to try to win a few more scholarships too. Because I only had to get one course done, my senior year should be smooth sailing. I should have plenty of time to work, and get more funds set aside for me to use at college.

I haven’t decided where I am going to go to college yet. I put in several applications to different colleges. I have volunteered at numerous places over the years, so I can show that I am not just a scholar. I honestly care about people, so I volunteered in places where I could help others the most. At the local food pantry, Habitat for Humanity, and at the local crisis center. I also asked my teachers to write me recommendations for their alma maters. My GPA was high, and I was going to work my butt off to get where I needed to be.

I have won a few scholarships throughout the years. I got some help from my teachers, who knew my situation. They also kept me informed about the ones that they knew I could win. I kept my scholarship money in a separate account. I also hid the fact that I was going to be leaving for college from my mother and grandmother. They would not like me leaving, so I have never mentioned to them that I even wanted to go to college. I know they won’t be trying to help me. If I am honest, they were probably already looking for a way to get rid of me when I turned eighteen. Just from the way they treated me daily, they would both be happy when I was gone.

They do not love me, or care about me. They never have. I am the bane of their existence. My grandfather was the only one who truly loved me. My value to them is the fact that I clean the house and do all the laundry. They might not even realize when I go until they discover that their laundry isn’t done like magic, and the house is no longer clean. I am a disappointment to them both. They were ashamed of me, and never missed an opportunity to tell me where I was lacking in their eyes. I was glad once my uncle stepped into my life. Well, I was eventually.

My uncle had originally approached me at my job, right before school ended. I had left my job at a restaurant on the Santa Monica pier to head home after work. He stepped out in front of me and introduced himself. I could see that he had the same emerald green eyes as mine, as well as my dark hair. I just couldn’t believe a word that ended up coming out of his mouth. My father’s side of the family had never wanted to have anything to do with me before. I didn’t know why he would be coming to me now.

What he was saying to me was unbelievable. I didn’t know anyone from my father’s side of the family, and I was scared. He could have been lying to me about being a family member. So, I flagged down a cop on the pier. I just needed to get back home. It bought me a little time to get a head start on walking the eight blocks home. It didn’t work out for me like I thought it would. The walk from work is almost totally uphill. It was a hard climb with my school backpack on, due to it being so heavy. I could feel that I was being watched, but every time I turned around, there was no one there.

I was relieved to finally make it back home. Only to be yelled at for getting there late. My mother was still at work, and my grandmother was mad that I hadn’t done anything around the house yet. She knows that the restaurant closes at ten pm on the nights I work. Then we have to clean up after we close. The earliest I can get home is around eleven at night, because of me having to walk home. My grandmother could have picked me up, she just wouldn’t. She refuses to do anything at all to make my life easier.

My mother is still angry at me to this day. She has always blamed me for my father leaving her after I was born. He had insisted on her having me, as she wanted to abort. She was, and still is, an actress, and it was not going to help her career by having a baby. She gets bit parts in both TV and movie productions. She is just not a great actress. She is stiff and unnatural when you watch her work. But, she is also very beautiful, so she continues to be able to get work. It is usually small background parts, despite how badly she comes across.

Kano was dating her, and they were happy. He went with her to all the doctor's appointments throughout her pregnancy. He was very happy about her giving him such a wonderful gift. My mother, Jennifer, had been completely in love with him. She had dreamed of him marrying her, and us living together as a happy little family. Spoiler alert, that never happened.

The day I was born, he was there in the room with her. Supporting her through the delivery. He had told her exactly what to name me. He wanted my name to be specific, Calissa Maren. He just never gave her his last name to put on the birth certificate. My last name on my birth certificate is Walters. That was my mother’s maiden, or birth, name. He came again the next day, and let’s just say it did not go well.

He was not alone when he got to the hospital that fateful day. I have heard this story about a hundred times if I have heard it once. From the sound of it, I believe my Uncle Ronan was the one to come into the room with him that day. My father held me in his arms for about twenty minutes, before finally placing a kiss on my forehead. He then put me into my rolling bassinet. He kissed my mother goodbye, even as she was asking him again for his last name to put on the birth certificate. That is when things went totally downhill.

He asked to speak to her privately, with my grandparents, and Uncle Ronan, leaving them in the room alone with me. The sound of screaming came from the room shortly thereafter. Along with the sound of items being thrown around. My grandfather, Theodore Walters, went to go in to see what was happening when my uncle Ronan stopped him. He handed my grandfather the duffle bag that he had been carrying and then blocked the door. He knew that my father was breaking things off with my mother, and didn’t want things to escalate even further.

That was the day that my grandparents decided that my father was a drug dealer. The duffle bag was full of money. Over $500,000 was inside the bag. Both my father and Uncle Ronan were large men. They had three other men with them. So the assumption grew and took root, as why else would they have so much money on hand? My mother told my father that if he did break things off with her, he would never be able to see me again.

She used me as a weapon against him. She was surprised when he told her, “So be it, Jennifer”. He left the room right afterward. Her rash threat still rang in her ears. She hadn’t meant it, she was just trying to force his hand. She loved my father, and couldn’t bear the guilt and pain of losing him due to her actions. So she pushed all the blame onto me. She loves to remind me daily that I was so worthless, so unwanted, that my own father didn’t even want to be around me. Even after hearing it so much over the years, it still pierces my heart to hear it to this day.

I was a newborn when this happened. I didn’t know exactly what went down that day. Everything that I knew had come from my mother or grandmother. I knew better than to completely trust what they said. I very much wanted to speak to my father about this. I want to know what actually happened. Not just my mother’s version of it. I want to get some answers as to why he never came back to see me again. Why he never even tried to visit me? He knew where she lived. He had picked her up numerous times for their dates and doctor appointments for over a year. Why couldn’t he have tried to reach out to me? Send me a letter to know that he cared about me. Anything would have been preferable to what he actually did, which was nothing.