An Ordinary Me by Brooklyn Taylor

time I am here), show three proofs of ID and wait, wait, and wait in a cold, white room until my dad is called down. I observe all the other people waiting their turn to see their loved ones. I notice the security doors have glass that has been busted no doubt from a fight or a struggle. Being here was unpredictable. Sometimes it went as it should by the book others a fight would break out causing the whole place to go on lockdown.
     
    Talking about being paranoid about your surroundings, when you were at a Federal Corrections Institution AKA prison, you watched everything around you.
     
    I come here strictly out of obligation and honestly as a promise to my aunt. She is my father’s sister and sends money to him to get the essentials out of duty to her mother. She had promised her she would always make sure he was taken care of. She has never been here to see him as she says, ‘She might slap him.’ I know it hurts her that he has made these choices. Me, it doesn’t hurt me to see my father here in his tan prison uniform with a number identifying who he was. On the contrary, I don’t hurt for him. I am pissed at him. I don’t understand it and never will. How many teens can say their dad was a drug dealer? He dealt all kinds of illegal drugs right out of our home. He grew and cooked them up right in our kitchen. You would be shocked to know how many people bought from him. Once I saw a face I never forgot it. I could sit at a football game and point out the various students or parents that did business with my father.
     
    To me, at sixteen, I understood it all. Why couldn’t adults? My father and I pretty much had the same conversation every time I came to visit. After they call my name saying I could see my dad, I would go and sit in a large room filled with other loved ones. They cried over missing their relative in prison, but for me I was here out of obligation not love or the void of my father. I can’t miss something I have never had. Believe it or not my life is easier with him here, behind bars.
     
    “Hi, son.”
     
    “Hi, Dad.”
     
    I sat in silence with lots of thoughts in my head but not really any that I cared to get out. You can’t cause a scene like that in a place like this. I’ve seen plenty of fights here, and it is not like a fight at school. These were criminals serving time in federal prison, and I can pretty much sum up their respect for the place. Zero! They would get away with what they could.
     
    There were a few times Dad wanted me to contact or send a letter to one of his friends, but I refused. If it had anything to do with drugs I wasn’t going to have any part of it.
     
    “I know your only coming here since your aunt is sending you.”
     
    “Yes, sir.”
     
    “How is school?”
     
    “Fine.”
     
    “How is the drumming?”
     
    He would ask me these questions as if he really cared. Yeah right.
     
    “Good.”
     
    “How is your mom?”
     
    “How do you think she is?”
     
    I would stand up ready to leave. He would stand to try to hug me, and I would pull away right before the prison guard would order him to step away. Definitely, not an ordinary Saturday.

Chapter 5
     
    Garrison
    Our band gig at the county carnival was for two hours on opening night. I was pretty stoked about it. It was a huge event for New Braunfels, a town that had more cattle than people.
     
    Music was the only thing that made my mind stop. I had no thoughts running through it other than the next set of notes I had to play. We only got this event because Dylan’s aunt organized it. We were going to play the two hours then hang out at the carnival. I loved a good Ferris wheel ride. I loved to look out and see all the people that looked like ants so minuscule.
     
    I was not three minutes into the second song when I looked out in the audience and saw her. Reese. She was dressed in a flannel shirt tied around her waist and denim shorts. She was bopping around to the music and looked like she