「故事·听力」My Mom Hid The Truth About Who My Dad Was

My Mom Hid The Truth About Who My Dad Was

My name is Courtney. I am 14 years old. Tell me, have you ever wished for something really badly for a long time? But when you got it, the only thing you wanted to do was move the clock back? Well... I did...

All my life I've lived in a small town in Alabama. It was not New York, but... we always had the ocean nearby and I loved spending my time there. The ocean had been filled in about all my dreams and my even dark sides.

I lived there with my mom and my grandma. My dad was an FBI agent and had to work undercover, I had never even seen him in my whole life, but my mom encouraged me to just wait for him to come back. And I waited! Every day! It's been the meaning of my life since childhood. But...it seemed like his work was far too important.

One day when I came back from school, I saw men's boots in our hallway! Could it be my dad? I went into the kitchen with my legs all shaky. There was a perfect dinner on the table, candles were lit, and there was wine. It couldn't have looked more romantic. My mother was sitting at the table with a man. He didn't look like an FBI agent and it didn't seem that he was looking forward to meeting me, his daughter. The shock left me speechless.

It definitely wasn't my father. I rushed to my room as quick as I could and burst into tears.

When my mother came into the room to talk to me, I demanded an explanation. I couldn't believe that my mom could do this to my dad. And then... she confessed that my real dad wasn't an FBI agent and didn't work undercover. Mom wasn't even sure if he knew he had a daughter! She said that she had made up this story for me about my courageous dad, so that I didn't feel miserable and left alone. In fact, she didn't even know where he was.

That was the starting point. My whole life had been completely ruined within a second. I headed to the water to think it all over. I couldn't cope with my anger at my mom, or my dad, who must have been having a good time somewhere. I even felt angry at the whole world. 

That was the day when I wished for it. I wished to get out of that town, I wished the ocean would just wash my grief away, along with  the whole town and all those traitors.

And it didn't take long for my prayers to be answered. 

It started when I was at school one day. I remember looking out the window. The wind was blowing trees and bushes over, the power lines were swinging around. The ditches started to flood, then the roads, and then the yards.

It was finished as quickly as it started. When I was going home, I wasn't even sure if home was still there. There were a lot of people, looking for their stuff, and rescue workers searching under the debris in order to find any survivors.

I was stunned. Maybe it was my fault for making that wish or maybe it was just a gigantic coincidence? I came up to our yard to see that there was no house anymore. Police cars, ambulances. One came for my grandma. She was badly hurt during the storm. When my mother saw me, she squeezed me in her arms and said: "" I am so happy you are alive.' There was no time to grieve. We had to just start all over. My mother decided to move us to New Jersey because we had family there. She tried to persuade me that it was going to be fine and that we would get through this.

With a heavy heart we left the only home I'd ever known. It seemed like my dream was coming true, but for some reason... I wasn't satisfied at all.

Though my uncle generously let us live with him, we all fell on hard times. There was not enough space in the house, my mother and my grandma and I had to share one small room together. We were out of money. My poor mom had to find a job to make a living, I had to go to a new school and take care of grandma. But the thought that it was actually me who made the wish that it would all happen was killing me the most.

Could I really have wished for so many people that I love to suffer so much? I saw my mother come back home really late every night. She was so exhausted, but nevertheless she always tried to make conversation. My grandma was the worst. She had spent all her life in a peaceful place near the ocean and now she was just quietly sitting in a room and watching TV all day long.

As for me, my new school was ok, but I didn't belong there. I missed home... badly.

One late evening when everybody was sleeping, my mom asked me to go into the kitchen. We sat at the table together. Suddenly mom grabbed my hand and gave me a folded piece of paper. ""Now. There."" She said quickly. I wondered what it was and she answered: ""I hope it is the key to what you've been looking for."" and left.

I looked at the note and there was a telephone number and the word – dad.