KAPPA IV Memoir - Mr. Almanzar

By: Angela 

   I was 5 years and 6 months old the day it all happened. I knew it was coming, no matter how much I didn’t want it to. I walked down the stairs of my apartment building, expecting the worst. I clutched on to my godmothers’ hand for dear life. “Mommy, I don’t wanna go.” I whimpered,”I wanna stay.” I continued. She stayed silent. Tears swelled up in my eyes at the thought of what would happen. When we reached the outside of my apartment building, I almost cried right there. There I stood, on 149^th street, not knowing the avenue. The whole 5 and a half years I spent here were the best of my life, but the others would be filled with misery. I loved my god mother and her family more than anybody. I loved my sisters Fefe, Punky, Meisha, and Taj. I loved my brother Andrew. I loved my Aunt Melissa and Uncle Elijah and their mom who we call Nana. I loved all my friends on the block, child or adult and I loved my Uncle James, but no matter how much love I had for anyone, the same, sad fate would occur. “Mommy, please don’t make me go with daddy.” I whimpered, not even fooling myself that I wasn’t crying. I heard people screaming in delight or in excitement; I felt the cool wind   of a summer’s day go by me. “I don’t want you to go either Nuka, but the judge said you must go according to your dad. I wish you could stay with me Nuka, I really do.” my godmother spoke, choking up. “I should have believed her,” I thought.

           I was enjoying a nice day at a park in Manhattan at the park. I was enjoying playing with my dad, half brother and half sister. I was only over there for a visit. “Daddy, this is fun! What’s this game called?” I asked questionably.

“I don’t know I’m just making it up.” he replied.

“Well lets call it, Daddy’s and Angela’s game.” I giggled .

“Ok.” he returned.  

After a while we were all hungry, so we went upstairs to eat. Then, my step mother pulled me aside when I was finished eating and told me,”Soon, you  won’t be living with your godmother anymore.”  I didn’t believe her one bit. I believed that I would be with my godmother the rest of my life from 1-20. But sadly, I was wrong.

          I see my dad come walking up the block. I feel the cold tears of sadness roll down my warm face. He reaches the 2 of us, and he says,” Hello, Shavonne.”

“Hello Santos.” my god mother replies back.

He then turns to me, picks me up and start to carry me away.

 “Put me down, put me down! Mommy, I don’t wanna go!” I sobbed wildly over and over again, but he never stirred, and kept carrying me away. I saw the sad face of my god mother fade away from me, as the tears went down my face faster than a bullet gets shot out of a gun.

          To this very day, almost 7 years later, I am miserable out of my mind. My step mother and I have the worst relationship, my half siblings think they can do whatever they want to me, and my dad hardly acknowledges my feelings. I miss everything about my old life. If it wasn’t for that idiotic judge, I’d be happy out of my mind. But I don’t think it was the judge at all, I think it was something else that caused me to leave.

         It was summer, in the middle of August, and I was getting ready to go home from vacationing with my god mother in Durham, North Carolina. “Mom, if you could keep me over here forever, would you?” I asked her. “Yes mama, do you know I would go to the moon and shout from space, ‘My daughter is coming to live with me?” she asked. “Yes, I know, and I wish I could come live with you.” I said replying. “You know, I don’t think it was the judge that made you go away, because I  got a call from  agent the day after you were taken away, and she said,’ Ms. Smith, Angela is now up for adoption.’ And I said, ‘But her father just came to take her to live with him.’ And she said,’ Well, that’s not right.’ So I knew something was up. Then I called your house and Carmen told me,” Well the judge didn’t do anything, and Santos doesn’t want me to tell you what really happened.’ And after that I heard the phones dial tone.” my god mother told me.

         And that’s why I think that the judge had nothing to do with it. Eventually, I’ll find out the truth, and when I do, it won’t be pretty. I am now almost 12. I am not an adult, bur I’m old enough to know the truth. My parents say not to lie to them, but how can they say that when they may be lying to me themselves?