Not Who I Thought You Were

“Chelsea Everwood, to the principal’s office. Chelsea Everwood, to the principal’s office.” The high-pitched voice of Mary the administration officer rang out through the loudspeaker of the school, reaching my ears, and filling me with panic. The principles office? I thought, why would I be going to the office? I gathered my school supplies and tripped out the door of my science classroom.

As I wondered through the hallway, my mind was racing, scared, fearful of what might have happened. Am I in trouble? Did something happen? Is my mum alright?

Finally, I reached the doors, the dreaded doors of Principal Stewart’s office. Why were they so big? Why did they have to be so intimidating, I thought. I turned the doorknob and went inside.

“Mum?!” I immediately stop, not even fully through the door. My mother, sat across from Principal Stewert, with a completely full box of tissues, right beside her. “Miss. Everwood. Please take a seat.”

That was the first time I ever heard Principal’s Stewart’s voice; it was unusually deep for a man who looks as though he’s a toddler in his suspenders. I took my seat in the chair next to my mum, glancing at her perfectly neutral face. Mr Stewert cleared his throat to gain my attention again. “Miss. Everwood, unfortunately, your father has passed away in the aftermath of a hit and run accident, on the roads of North Carolina, the culprits were high on an unknown drug, I’m so sorry.”

 Numbness fills my body, Mr. Stewart’s voice became blurred, and all I could hear was my pounding heart, I was sure I was about to vomit, my body ached. If it wasn’t for the wooden chair I was sitting on, I would’ve been on the hard floor, I wasn’t sure I was breathing.

***

Several months later, as I was packing up the last of my things from my room, in the unit we used to live in when mother walked in. “You know, he probably stepped in front of the car so he could stop paying child support” She mocked.  “You’ve already made that joke, it wasn’t funny then, and it isn’t funny now.” I snapped back.

In fact, the “joke” she liked to make was first made in the principal’s office, 5^th of May 2024, right after the news of my father’s death was announced to me.

“Chelsea, I know you didn’t know your father, but I did, he was a horrible human being, and the only good thing to come out of his death, is the fact that we get his mansion in North Carolina, instead of this dump.”

“He’s still a human being mother, he deserves some respect.”

And to that she rolls her eyes. “You are right, he was a human being. Would you just finish up here, then you can start on my room.” She strutted out of my now empty room, and into the kitchen to pack some utensils away. I pushed the last box of mine into the corner with the others, and moved into my mother’s room, to get to work.

Many exhausting hours later, I had narrowed mother’s belongings down to her wardrobe. The boxes were already stacked to the roof, daring to topple over, and suffocate me and by the look of her wardrobe, I was going to need a lot more boxes. I reached into her closet, trying to grab all the clothes hanging together, when suddenly I hit something, a box it seems. I repositioned my hands, and with much effort I was able to drag it out but toppled backwards. Laying open on the floor was a large carboard box, full of letters, and souvenirs from foreign countries. “What the heck?” I pulled the top letter out and began to read.

March 28^th, 2024

Hey Hun, dad here, so my charity trip to Indonesia to build houses for the poor got cancelled. Which don’t get me wrong, I would have loved to help them, but this means, this year I can come up for your birthday! Oh, I can’t wait. I’ll be driving up from North Carolina in a week, just to surprise you.

Given your probably reading this after I get there, did I surprise you?

I know you don’t usually reply to these letters, but do you think you could respond to this one? Just so I know you are getting them.

Anyways, I found an Italian recipe for you to try, maybe we could try it together over face call. I hope you enjoy it. Uncle Alex and I made it in bulk for the children of the village we were staying at in Burundi last month. I love sending you gifts from my charity work Chelsea, and I’d love if you could come visit me down here in North Carolina. We’ve got some beautiful beaches you know. Or maybe you could come along to one of my work events, the research team and I are going to Antarctica in the winter, to study the extinction rate of the Emperor Penguin species. Imagine that! You could tell your friends you spent Christmas in Antarctica patting Penguins! Anyways I can’t wait to see you. But just in case I don’t make it up for your birthday, I love you, and happy 14^th birthday baby girl!

XOXO Dad.

I dropped to the floor … guttered … speechless. I lay in the foetal position holding the letter with a firm grip.

I just lay there for a while, trying to push away the nausea building in my stomach. Finally, I moved my gaze from the cold, dirty tiles, then to the ominous carboard box that seemed to scream at me, telling me my life is a lie. I sat up and moved towards the box, and again peered inside. There were hundreds of letters all scattered inside the box, and among them, recipes, opened birthday presents, photos and even signed autographs from Taylor Swift, and Olivia Rodrigo. All addressed to me - Chelsea Everwood, from Dad XOXO.

My mother eventually came to her room, but when she saw me, she didn’t say a word. Not a single sound. Her face was sheer white, like she had seen a ghost. Her life secret lay sprawled across her wardrobe floor. She made no attempt to make a lame apology, no false explanations, just silence. I turned my head, with silent tears rushing down my face. I stared at her, broken… destroyed…, no longer seeing her as the loving and naturing face that I’d known my entire life, but the face of a monster, a monster who had told me that my father didn’t love me and left me for a better life.