Gone, baby, gone...

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"Dad! I'm home!" I said, slamming the door of the studio apartment my dad and I lived in. I didn't hear anything for a few seconds and I grinned. "90'S ROCKED!" I yelled, doing a running leap and landing on the couch. I dug a bag of fruit out of my lunch bag and turned on the TV.  For two hours, I sat on my ass, singing at the top of my lungs. When my dad walked in the door, I was not being very childlike. "FUCK YOU I WON'T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME! FUCK YOU I WON'T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME!" I sang, jumping up and down on the couch. I had no idea my father was home until I was grabbed of the couch and tackled to the ground. "You will do what I tell you! You will do what I tell you!" My dad said, tickling me. I shrieked with laughter until he pulled me to my feet. "Come sit next to me, Shauna," Dad said. I raised my eyebrow but I jumped onto the couch. He sighed and put his arm around my shoulders. "I lost my job today, Shauna, and we're running out of money to pay for the apartment," He said. I sighed. This was my dad's third job he lost in two months. It was getting bad. "So what are we gonna do?" I asked. He shut his eyes before looking at me. "We're moving back to where I used to live before I went to Harvard. We're moving back to California to stay with my family." I stared at him with wide eyes. After all the stories Dad had told me about his family, all I could say was one thing. "Shit."

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