Reminiscence of a Guilty Conscience

Sometimes disobedience can lead to regret.

God is everywhere.

I should have known that when I disobeyed my dad that night.  I didn't know, I was foolish.  People do stupid things sometimes especially when they in their 'teens.  Now I finally know that what I did had consequences, that disobeying my parents was to disobey god.

Now, a single mother approaching thirty, I finally understood what dad did was for my own good.  I should have never gone to that party.  If I had just listened and stayed home that night, I wouldn't be dragging my eleven-year-old son to school right now.

If I had just listened, I wouldn't had gotten drunk and gotten in bed with a complete stranger.  If I had just listened, I would've gone travel in Europe and all those places I've dreamed of visiting right now.  This must be some kind of punishment from god to make sure my guilt haunts me forever.

I still don't know who my son, Joey's father is.  I've been lying to Joey telling him that his father died when he was born and been putting up a happy face for the last 11 years but deep down, I'm filled with guilt and remorse for fighting with dad that night.

"But dad, everyone in my class is going to this party." I begged that night 11 years ago.

Dad shook his head violently, "No, no way, it's already passed curfew and who knows what will happen at this party.  Lord won't forgive me if anything happens to you."

"I'm 18." I argued.  "I'm legally an adult.  I can take care of myself, dad. I don't need you to watch me anymore." Sometimes I think mom's just an object on display in the house.  She never say or do anything around here.

I felt hot and frustrated that dad always wants to control every aspect of my life.  Go to my alma mater, get into this major, don't drink. I was so sick of him always ordering me around like I was some kind of helpless kid.  I stormed out of my room and went straight to the front door.

"If you step out that door right this minute, you will be not allowed back in, young lady." Dad warned but I turned the knob anyway and stormed out the house into the night.

Tears began to fall from my face as I remembered this, the night dad kicked me out.  I wasn't even allowed back into the house to collect my things the next day.  "Please, dad, I just want to get my thing, please let me in." I cried as dad shut the door in my face with mom helplessly watching behind him.

I had no spare clothes, no money, and worst of all, I was homeless, even my phone got disconnected that very same day.  That afternoon, I walked 11 blocks to my friend Darlene's house, she opened the door, looked at my messy hair and ragged shirt and jeans and immediately threw her arms around me.  "What happened, Megan?" She asked.

"Dad kicked me out and he won't even let me get my things." I sobbed.

"Well you can stay here as long as you like." She said and looked me in the eye, "and we will find a way to get your stuff."

It was a failure, Darlene wasn't able to get my things.  If she was, I might be a little better right now with the $5,000 I secretly saved in my room from the part-time jobs I've secretly acquired.  That was why I wanted to go get my things, it wasn't about the possessions, it was the money.

It was about two days later when I began to feel sick.  That morning, I threw up like hell in Darlene's bathroom.  I immediately knew what was happening to me.  "Oh my god, Darlene." I shouted.

Darlene rushed into the bathroom, "What, what is it, Meg?" She asked frantically.

I stared at her, eyes swollen from crying and vomiting, "I think I might be pregnant."

"What, how?" She asked anxiously.  Both our hearts were beating out of our chest at that moment as I remembered what happened that night at the party.

"That guy." I muttered and stood up. "S**t. What am I going to do?" I ruffled my hair and walked out of the bathroom. "I can't have a baby, I'm only 18." I raised my voice frantically. I realize now how stupid I sounded at that moment.  I looked back and Darlene was still at the bathroom entryway, stunned and speechless.

I had no insurance and no money, I'd be homeless forever like this.  Until now, I still cannot remember how I've been able to raise my son and myself in this tiny one bedroom apartment.  Of course, it was the miracle that finally saved me, I guess god has mercy sometimes to those racked with guilt.

I stayed at Darlene's while I was pregnant, her parents were more than willing to accommodate my stay but I was getting worrier and worrier everyday.  How am I supposed to support myself and a baby if I don't have any money. Beg for money on the street? I found myself pacing even when I was 7 months pregnant and cannot see my feet.

Finally, one day Darlene's father came home with the good news, he has a friend that runs a daycare center and was in need of a receptionist immediately and he incidentally recommended me for the position.  "You should go to interview tomorrow, Megan.  Mr. Crowford is expecting you." He smiled.

Of course, I was more than thrilled.  The next day, I dressed the best I could in my maternity dress and went in for my interview with my resume.  Mr. Crowford didn't asked me much about my experience, he mostly asked me about my baby.  "Of course I love children." I answered.

He smiled, "Well, I'm glad to hear that.  It look like we are really in need of a receptionist.  How about you start tomorrow?"

"Really?" I asked ecstatically, like a child being handed a piece of candy by an adult.

"Of course, unless you don't want the job." He speculated, eyebrow shot up.

"Of course, no problem.  What time shall I be here?" I asked.

"How about 8:30?" He asked and held out his hand.

I smiled, "See you at 8:30?" I shook his hand.

"Of course." He said.

I guess everyone deserve a happy ending include someone who went against her dad and god.  After Joey was born healthily on that spring afternoon, I moved us into an one-bedroom apartment using the money I've saved in the past three months.

Now, it's been almost 12 years and Darlene has moved out of her parents' home and has a family with a successful career.  Yet, I'm still stuck in this rut.  Maybe it's time for me to face my conscience and my dad to clear the guilt I've been feeling all these years.  Maybe a confrontation is better than a reflection.  Maybe...