Member-only story
I Have No Keys
It’s 2008, the year of the financial crisis, and I’m 13 years old. My mom loses her job and gets really sick all at the same time. We end up moving with a family friend, Pete, for 2 years. He lives in a one-bedroom apartment, so my mom and I are forced to sleep on the couch-bed in his living room. I am left with little privacy; the only space I have to myself is the bathroom. I am not aware of the severity of our situation. On top of this, my mom is quite strict, so I can’t go out past 8pm. My need to be outside and explore on my own is only growing.
Pete is great; there are definitely worse places to be. Pete is about 60, he doesn’t have a cell phone or use a credit card, and he cleans the cookies from his web browser every night. I’m still not sure if he’s like this because he cannot be bothered or if he’s just being extra careful. It’s his character. He doesn’t trust my ability to take responsibility for anything, therefore I am never given a copy of the key to the apartment.
This building is my home, we’ve already been living there for 5 years. Except for this time, it’s not home.
When walking out of the elevator to the 5th floor, there is a long blue-walled hallway with dark grey carpeting and fluorescent lighting. There are days where I’d come home from school and no one is in the apartment. I have nowhere else to be, so I’m stuck. If my favorite doorman…
