The closet
By Garrett
In the summer of 2013, I managed to read 83 books locked in that closet. That closet was my constant, my refuge, my home. I would clench the grooves in the wood and hold myself tight; I remember the fear from sitting and watching my entire childhood fall apart as I listened to my parents fight the night away. I remember the sound the bottle would make after it was emptied, the clink as it fell on the granite counter would be a signal for me to run and lock the closet door. That was the sound I remember hearing before I was pushed down a flight of stairs or thrown at a wooden door. After these nights, I would wake up in the morning and put on a wool sweater in the 90 degree summer weather just to cover the dark blue bruises on my arms and legs.
I recall myself locked in the closet curled up against the back wall and getting lost on the Mississippi River with Tom and Huck. I made the closet my space, hiding some bags of pretzels and bottled water behind the coats. I would run around my house finding anything from Pride and Prejudice to the Odyssey by Homer to escape my reality. One day I came across Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare. After reading about the seventeenth century monarch I became fascinated with the idea of politics and government. I memorized presidents from James A. Garfield to Andrew Jackson. I began to study everything from Athenian Democracy to English Monarchs. My favorite politician was Winston Churchill; he helped me establish my goals and ambitions based on his past.
I realized where I was going with my life and worked as hard as I could to achieve that goal. She may have pushed me to the closet, but she also pushed me to find my calling, my future, my passion. I ran for student council my freshman year and managed to become treasurer of a school with 2000 students. I turned my closet reading time into organizing a food drive to reduce waste from our cafeteria, planning a fundraiser that raised $ 15,000 for a local homeless shelter. For me it was never about the glory, it was about the work. I stopped looking at lack of funds or lack of volunteers as an obstacle, but more as hurdles to overcome.
Abuse, Addiction, & Loss 17