Magic, Myths, and Me

This is a short story I wrote a few years ago about the journey that changed my life. This is a creative non-fiction piece so yes, this is based on a true story. A writing prompt from a professor who wanted us to write about a turning point in our lives. For the New Year I wish everyone a happy and healthy year. Reflect on how you got to where you are today and try and see how mistakes helped you become a better person. Much love and aloha!

I Would Never Return to New York

My story begins in upstate New York, the year was 1996 and I was seventeen years old. I was a troubled kid from the start. My family was not bad but I was pushed aside when I was young by both of my parents. My twin brothers were born premature and they needed one hundred percent attention. Sometimes it is hard to understand when you are a teenager. I felt like I would never amount to anything and never felt like I was worthy in my parent’s eyes. I had no discipline or direction so every mistake I made felt like it was entirely my fault. I was drawn to anyone who seemed to care even if they were as messed up as I was.

One day, I was with one of those friends who was driving me around to pick up cigarettes and beer. We stopped at a Mobil gas station just a few miles from my family home. We both entered and he caused a distraction by trying to steal something. I took that opportunity to snatch a pack of cigarettes, Newport’s, if I remember correctly. I paid for gas, and we got into my friend’s car. We turned up the bass, lit our cigarettes, and just like Bonnie and Clyde we took off, on to our next adventure.  

Fast forward to a month later, my mom let me throw a birthday party for one of my friends. I was standing in my parent’s basement. All around me I saw kids my age throwing punches at one another. The light hanging over the pool table was rocking back and forth like a pendulum blade. I saw a close friend of mine trying to stop two guys from fighting and she got knocked out. I watched in slow motion as she tried to break them apart. She looked like a rag doll in a game of monkey in the middle. I saw my parent’s green garden ball crack like a Christmas ornament, and it fell onto the red carpet smashing into bits. A beer bottle flew past my face and that is when I finally snapped out of it. I pushed my way through the punches and ran up the stairs. I grabbed the house phone and dialed 911.

            “911 what is your emergency?”

            “Help! I’m at a party and everyone is fighting!” I said panicked. “I don’t know what to do.”

            “Okay, try and stay calm,” the operator said calmly. “What is your address?”

I quickly said my address and hung up. My mother was scared but she helped me get the brawlers out of our house. She was not even mad at me. I only saw fear in her eyes. What went wrong? I asked myself. Firstly, I had many friends from many places. Did they all know each other? Probably not. Secondly, I had invited groups of people from different towns who were rivals. And thirdly, you could say they were immature and could not wait for an opportunity like my party to find out who had the toughest gang. Do I regret this party? Not really because if I never threw this party, I would have never had the opportunity to move to Guam.

            My father was working in Guam when the party from hell took place. My mother called him after the police left. He was on a plane by the end of the week to return home and move us to Guam. I called my auntie and told her that I refused to move to Guam and that I wanted to finish high school there. My parents agreed that I could stay with her so I could finish school. I thought I had it all figured out but what happened next ensured that I would never return to New York. 

            They put up the for-sale sign on the house and I reluctantly started to pack. I took a break because I needed cigarettes. I borrowed my mom’s car and stopped at the Mobil gas station where the infamous Bonnie and Clyde had robbed just a month ago. The clerk asked me for my driver’s license. Since I had just turned eighteen I proudly handed it to him. Instead of him handing me back my license he made a phone call to the police.

            “Give me back my license, asshole!” I shouted.

            “No, the police are on their way. You’re getting arrested for stealing. I caught you on video,” he laughed.

            I ran outside and jumped into my mom’s white Lincoln Town Car with black tinted windows and dice in the mirror. I peeled out leaving rubber marks and smoke. When I reached home reality hit me and I noticed for the first time that everything was packed up. My parents were not lying. They were really going for it. My eyes were wide as I thought about myself in jail instead of moving away with my family. Moving thousands of miles away is where I should be right now.

            I heard the knock on the door before my mother heard it. My heart was pounding. I didn’t answer the door but waited for my mom to come out of her room.

            “Mom, it’s the police at the door,” I said quietly.

            “What did you do?” she demanded.

            Now of course she would assume I was the reason the cops were there. And of course, she was right.

            I was taken to the police station and my parents both worked with the police in deciding my fate. It was then decided that for me to get out of having a permanent record I would accompany my parents to Guam and pay for the cigarettes that were stolen. By the end of the week, we were completely packed and ready to go The pure experience of the move started to rebuild our family’s trust in one another. We found ourselves laughing again and being a family. I felt like we were living on the set of Gilligan’s Island. The ocean was crystal clear, the sand was like talc, and for the first time I felt like I could breathe. My anxieties washed away the first time I submerged myself in the healing salt water.   

            My dad was excited to bring us to his friend’s beach bar called Tahiti Rama’s. The owners are from Tahiti, and they held a Polynesian review every Friday night. It was there that I took up Tahitian dance and I have been dancing ever since. I had all I needed in Guam. My family was closer than ever, and I learned discipline through my passion of dancing. The hardest part for me was a year and a half later when my parents decided to move to South Florida. I said goodbye to them and stayed in Guam for ten more years.

            Throughout my life I have thought of how things would have turned out if I never rebelled. I would have never moved to Guam. I would have never known the passions that I have now. The dark path that I was headed down would have only darkened. So now when I feel the sun on my face, feel the warm air on my skin, and when I am surrounded by the people I love, I give thanks to how my life turned out. Thank you for reading.