“You’re not family anymore,” was all my stepdad, Carl, said before slamming the door in my face. At nineteen, I stood on the porch with a single bag of belongings, my heart shattered. Carl made it clear—I no longer mattered. Years later, after building my life from nothing, his name suddenly flashed on my phone. His voice trembled. “I didn’t think you’d pick up, but…”
Standing there, I kicked my worn sneakers into the cracked pavement. Carl, my stepdad, stood across from me with his arms crossed, looking stern as ever. “Can’t believe you’re doing this, Carl,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. He didn’t flinch. "She's my daughter. You understand," he replied, as if that justified everything. Silence hung between us, heavy and unyielding. The world felt colder seeing his face so indifferent.
"Get out," Carl said, ending my world in two simple words. His daughter Julie, standing just inside the doorway, had tears shining in her eyes. I looked at her, trying to find some understanding, some hint of kindness. "I didn't ask for any of this," Julie whispered, looking at Carl, then back at me. I nodded, knowing she was right, but it didn't make it hurt any less.
With nothing left to say, I picked up my torn duffel bag and held my head high. The rain started to pour, drenching me with every step as I stumbled down the lonely street. The sound of the door closing behind me was final. No turning back now. The rain mixed with my tears, but I kept moving. The world carried on like nothing had changed, while everything for me was different.