Weight In Gold (Brendon Urie)

The Mistake

I should have known I was taking it too far. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but between the countless shots of vodka and the flurry of emotion caused by heartbreak, it’s fair to say that my judgement was clouded. I saw jail as an option. Maybe I’d spend a night there if things didn’t go to well, but at least it would only be a night and after that I could go home. My parents would probably be pissed–scratch that, they would definitely be pissed–but I could think of a few things worse. I didn’t see this coming, not in the slightest, and now I know that I royally fucked up.

I didn’t go to jail, but even jail would have been a better fate than being caught red handed by the world’s most up tight parents in a situation like that. But I doesn’t matter. I can’t just keep focusing on the past.

I knew if I got caught my punishment would be severe, but I think this time my parents really overeacted. I don’t know how they could even think of doing this to me. I’m only 16, I’m still a kid, and yet they are practically disowning me. I know this is my doing, after all if I wanted to be treated like a kid maybe I should have acted like one, but they could have handled this so many better ways. Taken away my phone, grounded me forever, pull me out of my extra curriculars, anything. But send me across the entire fucking country with my Aunt Jodie and Uncle Rick who I’ve only met twice, once when I was 7 and once when I was 10? Not quite what I had in mind.

They aren't even technically related to me, Jodie is my dad's god mother or something I've just always known her as my aunt. Tonight is my last night here, and it’s drawing to a close. My last night in the only place I’ve ever known as home and now, because of one stupid mistake, I have to leave. Indefinitely.

Right now, I’m in Arizona, in the same house I was taken to the day after I was born. I’ve never moved, not even once, and the longest I’ve ever spent away from home is a week at a summer camp when I was 12. Not to say I haven’t snuck out a few times and passed out drunk on some dude’s lawn,  because I have done that more than once or twice, but that’s a little different. This isn’t just a night. This isn’t just a few days. This is from tomorrow until the day I graduate high school (which just so happens to be the day I turn 18). If you want to get technical, that’s about 665 days.

My Aunt and Uncle never had any kids of their own, but from what I've heard, four years ago they started a long term foster program with some kid. I’ve never met the guy, I dont even know his name, and now I’m gonna be living with him. That’s just one more reason to resent my parents.

It’s 1:35 AM now, and considering I have to get up at 6 to catch a plane to Chicago, I should probably get some sleep.

Here’s to a new beginning, I guess.

5:47 AM

Technically I could wait another 13 minutes before I get up officially, but I’d rather just get up now. Maybe then I’ll have some more time to jolt my mind awake. At least I can sleep on the plane.

My parents won’t be up until exactly 6 A.M. knowing them and their particularity, so I decide to spend some time to myself. I sit up in my bed and look around my room. It’s emptier than it should be. I have so many memories here, and now it seems like they all been wiped away. From the looks of it, my mom and dad don’t even want me back, they just want me out of their hair. I guess it could be worse, I don’t know how much they told Aunt Jodie about my situation, but from what I know I’m not going to be in any kind of recognizable trouble over there. I guess my main punishment is just have to move so suddenly. At least it isn’t the middle of the school year. I’m going to officially start my junior year of high school 1 week and 4 days from now.

I climb out of bed and put on the outfit I set out for myself yesterday. It’s very simple, some ripped denim jeans and a Bowie t-shirt, but it still looks nice. It’s not quite what I would call comfortable for travel, but at least I’ll be presentable for my new family. I walk in to the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I look tired. Too tired. My eyes have heavy bags underneath them and my usual sunkissed and warm toned skin looks almost gray. I also notice that my hair needs to be redyed soon, you can see my dark brown roots poking through the pretty bluish green of the rest of my head. I wonder how Rick and Jodie feel about hairdye. Hopefully they don’t mind it, considering I change my hair color almost once a month. I have a lot to wonder about my new family. I can only hope that they aren’t traditionally conservative, because I definitely don’t meet those expectations. On top of my colorful hair choices, I have a few tattoos scattered across my body, the largest of which being the sailboat on my left shoulder blade which is a bit smaller than a sheet of printer paper. The smallest of them is a small pink rose on my right wrist. I have a few others but they are usually concealed by clothing. All of my tattoos were acquired professionally, but without my parents permission. Each of them came with their own punishment as well as a “firm talking to”. Repercussions aside, I love all of them. My piercings are limited to traditional earlobe studs and a metal bar that runs through the cartilage in my left ear.

After pondering my reflection for a while, I wash my face and go back to my room. I put on a jacket and some boots and carry my bags out to the front door. I then grab and apple for a snack while I wait for my mom and dad to come down stairs and drive me to the airport.

I have just finished my apple when I hear gentle footsteps on the stairs. I turn my head and see my mom and dad walking hand in hand, fully clothed and ready to go. I feel a pang of guilt in my chest. Even though I have so many reasons to be upset with them, I really do love my mom and dad, and it gives me unmeasurable shame to think that I’ve made so many mistakes that getting rid of me is the only way they can think of dealing with me.

“Alright Ashley, it’s time to go,” my mother says with a slight smile. I can see in her eyes that she feels almost as bad about this as I do. “I’ll go start the car, kiddo. Start bringing your bags out when you're ready.” My dad speaks to me so normally I almost forget where I’m going. I nod and immediately walk over to my bags and follow him out to the car, although I’m not ready to go yet. I will never be ready to go.

It only takes one trip to get all of my bags into the car, because my aunt and uncle said to pack lightly and that they would help me pick out some new things to decorate my room with. I climb in to the backseat of our car and say a silent goodbye to my house. Since my whole family is going to the airport with me, we don’t bother saying goodbyes just yet. The entire trip is silent, the only noise from the soft hum of the motor. When we reach the airport, I’m in the first one to exit the vehicle. Then my dad, then my mom. I hug my dad first. “I love you so much, Ashley,” he says to me as if this isn’t his choice. Then comes my mom. Her embrace is a bit stronger than my dad’s. “I’m going to miss you honey. Just know that this is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” she says before she lets go of me. Then she holds my face in her hands and I see a tear on her cheek. I can feel the cold metal of her wedding ring that has remained on her hand for 22 years. I can feel my eyes starting to water, but I refuse to let any tears escape. At least not yet. “Just remember, sweetheart, this isn’t a punishment. It’s just what we think will be best for you. I love you,” she says with a tone of finality. “I love you too,” I barely choke out. It’s at this moment that I realize that this just might be the last time I see my parents for a very long time. I clench my fists around my bags and walk into the airport, wishing that this was all just a bad dream.