The Finale

    I updated my character sketch for my final revision. I would have to say that writing this piece was hard, but the revision was harder because I wanted to make it perfect, which I don't think I achieved. I decided that it was probably a good idea to narrow my piece down to just my first meeting with him and the written letter. I didn't feel like I should force putting in more parts to this piece because the reader should be able to understand my dominant impression through just the first meeting and written letter.
           “Hey Ty…” I looked up from my ipod and saw my dad turned around in the passenger seat of the car. “I got something important to tell you.” I glanced up again at him, but this time more intently. I had no idea what he was going to say. Many things raced through my head, all extreme of course, but still scared the hell out of me. His eye began to reflect the sunlight which had to mean he was slowly tearing up. “Oh jeez” I said to myself, what did he do. “There is no easy way to say this, but I got pulled over two nights ago. Due to the fact there was no breathalyzer in the car I was driving and I refused the breathalyzer exam from the officer, I was arrested. It looks like nothing bad is going to happen because it was a “load of crap” (I put that in quotations because in reality it wasn’t a load of crap. He deserved it.) The whole story is this: my dad is a “recovering” alcoholic. (Again I use quotations because I really don’t know if he is or not.) He was put on probation for the past few years and just recently had to install a breathalyzer in his car. Unfortunately, on the way back from Pennsylvania, he hit a deer and totaled his car. My dad then had to borrow his friend’s car without the breathalyzer, which is against the law. He was then pulled over for “swerving” in his own lane, according to him, but that’s probably a load of crap. Basically that “Oh nothing bad is going to happen” turned into a year and a half jail sentence to a shock facility just outside of Erie. I’ve been able to visit him once this whole time and it was at Livingston correctional Facility; before he was moved to the shock camp. It was not one of my top ten favorite experiences.He entered the room and sat down directly across from me. I stared into a careworn face. His acorn brown rheumy eyes exposed his obvious disdain. I shifted from his eyes down his boxer’s nose, from being broken a few times, and unkempt belgrave beard. His razor-burned cheeks surround a firm mouth that hid a mild case of buck teeth. On top of his egg-shaped head laid matted down golden blonde hair. I wanted to stand up and give a comforting hug, but glass separated us. His neon orange jacket caught my eye and I looked over his surprisingly lean body. “Been working out?” I asked. “Yeah, it’s been a lot of hard work in here. And the food…well you know sucks.”We sat back down and he put his hands on the table. They were very chapped and red, kind of like the marks you get on your skin when someone slaps you. His neon orange jacket hid fair alligator skin and corded arm muscles that connected with round, broad shoulders. “So how is everything?” he asked. I noticed a faltering, almost quavering voice originating from what almost seemed like his bobbing Adams apple. “It’s been just fine.” I responded reassuringly. At least I was trying to sound reassuring anyway; even though everything was not at all fine. I found it weird having a conversation with my father in this setting. It seemed almost like a dream, being enclosed by gray walls and having an enormous sheet of Plexiglas in front of me that was almost invisible. It was so transparent that it could have been used on one of those commercials for Windex when birds fly into the glass. I could feel my loose personality get zipped tight when I glanced back at the guard only to see him glaring a hole right through my head. Even under the circumstances I just felt like I didn’t belong here. Nobody should belong in a place like this. I turned my glance back upon my dad and it seemed like an eternity until he spoke again. “Tyler…” his eyes were struck with sadness. “I just want to say that…” “Dad, its ok. I know what you are going to say. I know that you feel awful about this entire thing, but it’s out of your control. I think that this is the best thing for you too. Sometimes people need the most extreme way to get help. And I hope it ends for you here. Besides only a little while more. December 2nd and then you’ll be back.” I was soon expecting some remark backing up what I just said, but there was nothing. Just eerie silence. In addition to the visit, we have been communicating through various letters. At first I would want to write back instantly because I really felt bad for him, but now it’s just gotten to be too much. I know he feels absolutely awful about this whole thing, but it shouldn’t of had to go this far. This is an example of a pretty general letter that I would get.Well I know a little more than my last letter, so I’ll get right into it. My drill instructor spoke to me on Friday and told me to tell you to come to graduation! HE is going to continue to work on my councilor to allow you in. She is a stickler for the rules, but he thinks he can get it done. If not, worst case scenario is that you just come into town, grab some coffee or something and then we head home together after I get out. That is the good news. The next part isn’t bad news, its just no news. I am still waiting to hear from parole to see if my address will be approved. They haven’t been to the apartment/ Marks office yet. I did get a letter from Mark dated 10/28. Uncle Mike gave Kim and Mark my clothes to be shipped here for when I get out. That was the easy part. Still waiting patiently (yeah right! Ha ha) for the address approval and to go home on parole. We will all definitely find out by 11/22. That’s only 16 days away! I am hoping to hear back from Uncle Jeff this week about his place just in case. I guess it really isn’t the issue anyway. For all I know, I could get paroled to a hotel or a halfway house or a shelter. Of course, I am still thinking positive about Caledonia. He then goes on to explain about activities. Don’t want to bore you with that if I haven’t already.I’m thinking you are somewhere in the midst of your four college tour right now. I’d love to make that trip with you but it’s not to be. I can’t wait to hear about it though. I hope you are actually enjoying the trip, not just business like you usually are. Right?!? I showed your last letter to my ASAT councilor and my DI. They are both very impressed with you. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. Having gone through everything you have, you are proving that adverse situations don’t bring you down. You show me that it is possible to rise above and remain an inspiration to me everyday. Not only while I’m here, but when I get out too. Saying that I’m proud of you doesn’t do justice for my feelings for you. Enough of that. I am already mushy. More boring stuff….Well, time to get this in the mail. I hope your trip went well. I can’t wait to hear from you. Stay in touch with Andrea about graduation day. I’m sure you will be traveling together. I’ll keep you updated as best I can. Hope I get something soon and I’ll keep praying that everything works out. For all of us. Well I will let you draw your own conclusions about that.



I know this is going to sound harsh, but I had to say it. The last letter I sent to him ended with this. “After all you have done to try and keep yourself on track, after all I have done to try and keep you on track, and you kind of blew it. You chose this for yourself. It isn’t anybodies fault but yours. And honestly I think the worst part of this for you is the time you have lost with me. Once you get out I have about 7 more months in New York and then I am leaving for college. I’m not mad at you for any of this. I just hope that the message finally gets through.