Happines is a destination

The morning after it was time to leave. Once again pushed into the car. Once again hours of silence during fathers driving. The only thing different about this trip was were we ended up. I saw the tower of our cathedral when we drew of the highway.
It is said;  happiness is not a destination, it is a way of life. Well, in my case happiness was a destination. It was the warm feeling of being home again.
The car stopped at a house in a part of town I was not familiar with. I was so young at that time. I had not been able to go sightseeing the town. So my references was few. All I could relate to was the located a short distance from this house.
Father stepped out of the car. His eyes wandered around the yard. I did not understand what he was looking for. I thought it was best to stay put in the car. My stomach filled up with butterflies. I hoped mother would show up and that my nightmare would be over. A young woman comes strolling. Fathers eyes fixed on her. His face charges and all his bitterness seemed to be erased.
She had to be someone father cared for. Because this time I was not dragged out of the car. I was not pushed up the stairs and I was not yield at. Father had a voice sweeter than honey. All the sudden I was the loved daughter he would give the world to. So untrue. It was like father played an act. And he went all in character as the loving father. The question was for how long he would keep up appearances.
Now I was stuck in another house with a person I did not know. With a father that all the suddenly was love personified.
The sadistic phone calls to mother continued. And I remember that I thought it was strange that this young woman accepted this behaviour from father. She just sat in the sofa and listen to mother crying and me screaming. Then, when father hung up, she held out her arms to him and embraced him. They did not pay any attention to me, or my wellbeing. The only thing that seem to matter for them, was being close to each other. They behaved like two teenagers in love. Always making out on the sofa. Day out and day in, week after week.

Until on day.

The phone rang. The young woman answer and gave the phone to father. His face becomes red. He start to stutter and then he exploded. The woman whispers to me; – it is your mother.
I hear father asking mother how she got the phone number. They both scream to each other. After some time, father hang up. He is furious. Start packing, he screams. Without a word I pack the few things that were mine.
He drives me to my grandparents. Without checking if they are at home. He tells me to go in  through the big iron gate. When I push the gate open. I can hear him driving away.
No one is at home. I sat down in the hammock. Not knowing if father was coming back for me. Without knowing if my grandparents were coming home. Father did not say a word to me after he order me to pack my bag.
I felt lonely and a bit scared as I sat in the garden and the hours went by.