The Clubhouse

Stella

"Annnnd finishedddd!" I exhaled as I hung up the last curtain on the window.
I stepped down off of the step stool and took a step back. Admiring all of the hard work I've put into this. I spin in a circle, one foot over the other as I take in the tiny shack.
I had spent the whole summer building this clubhouse. From putting up the walls made from old pieces of plywood to stolen windows from the abandon sheds in the neighborhood.
I was pretty impressed with myself. Taking one look at me, you'd never expect me to even pick up a hammer. I'm only 12 years old and In the 7th grade. I have long curly brown hair that flows to the lower half of my back. I wouldn't say I'm the smallest of the bunch but I'm not one of the heaviest. I'm definitely someone who doesn't look very hands on or athletic if you will.
I'm usually not playing 'Bob The Builder' but this summer, I would have done anything to escape my house.
Let me give you a quick rundown of what motivated me to walk 30 minutes into the middle of the woods behind our house and build a safe haven for myself.
My father was arrested when I was just turning 10 years old. The last month of my 5th grade year. Which means it's coming up on 2 years of him being incarcerated. They gave him a total of 10 years in prison.
But the calls stopped coming a year into his sentence. The letters and cards stopped coming. The emails stopped. It was like he turned into a stranger.
That's when things started getting bad with my mother. She blames herself. And then when she picks up a bottle, she blames me.
"If you wouldn't have been such a crybaby on the phone when he called maybe he would still call"
"Maybe if you weren't so annoying he would have actually stuck around"
But every morning she'd never remember. I was a liar, how could I make up such horrible things, if she was such a bad mother than I should live somewhere else.
So eventually I stopped telling her the nasty things she would spit at me. I just took those words. I let them eat at me. Eventually I started to believe her. What turned from just drunken words into real feelings.
My father was arrested for money laundering. Turning dirty money into clean legal money.
I know right .. who'd expect a middle aged man with a straight A student daughter, black jack dealer, with a slight gambling addiction to be cleaning millions of dollars worth's of money.
Yeah.. me neither.
But here we are now. A father in prison, a drunk mother, and now my very own clubhouse.
I take a seat on a broken rocking chair and pulled the folded letter out of my pocket.
"Dear Stella,
I know you must be scared, but you don't have to be. I still am and always will be your father and just know , everything I did was so I could give you a better life. I struggled growing up so you didn't have too. I wanted to give you everything you've ever wanted and needed. I did this for us. I did this for you Stella. Keep your chin up princess. Daddy will be home before you know it. Take care of your mother for me. You're strong. And I know that because you're half of me.
Love , Dad"
This was the first letter he sent to me. I got up and walked to the small piece of cork board hanging off the wall and pinned the letter to it.
"I still am and always will be your father"
I said aloud with a chuckle.
"Yeah .. okay dad. 2 years later and I don't even know who you are anymore"
I turned around and grabbed my back pack. I walked out of the door and locked the padlock. It was around 7 pm and I knew it would be getting dark out soon so I made my way home. I didn't feel like walking in the dark nor the eerie feeling of being watched.
As I arrived home I noticed a red Dodge Charger parked outside our house.
"Great. Another night, another guy" I huffed as I rolled my eyes and walked inside.