My Cardboard Balcony

The Pool Party by Belinda Roddie The pool party was ruined when my dad started screaming at my girlfriend and me when we held hands, and it got pretty bad when she planted a soft kiss on my cheek. He dragged her from the water by the arm, her hair tinged a light green from the chlorine, and though he wasn't strong enough to harm her, I was ready to knock out his teeth. My haymaker caught my dad near the ear, and he knocked down the grill during his fall. None of the hot dogs or burgers were spared, and people grabbed their beers and scaled the wall to get away from such a violent spree. I then stopped talking to my family.

Somehow, I figured that maybe everything wouldn't spiral out of control; that everything would just work out, and I wouldn't have to pick up the pieces of something that I didn't expect to break. Well, here I am, collecting shards in a dust bin, scratching up the palms of my hands while doing so because I don't have a broom. Here I am, in the middle of Portland, Oregon, smoking a cigarette outside a piercing shop even though I hate the smell and taste of cigarettes.