Fifty Three

Lenora

Fueled by anger, my dad clenched his fists, aggressively swerving through the mild, afternoon traffic.

"Get the fuck out of the road, you coffin dodger!" He pounded his hands on the steering wheel and honked aggressively at an old man behind the wheels of a Ford Mustang who merged into our lane without care.

He was so furious in an alarming manner that made me shrink into my seat without daring to meet his gaze and hoped we didn't end up in the hospital.

"I can't believe what you've done," he kept repeating. "I'm so ashamed and disappointed. Where are the values I instilled in you?"

My shoulder slumped and I bit my lower lip to stop myself from bursting into tears. All my life, I've never given him reasons to be ashamed of me. His hurtful condemnation hurt more than a thousand slaps across the face. I felt like a failure for causing this reaction from him.

"You know what's fucked up? I thought that bastard, CJ, was a good man. I opened my home to a screwup, a backstabber, an