The fall of 2021 was upon us. I was 17 years old and yearning for freedom and adventure. The pattern continued day after day. My mom Charlotte's voice would blare from inside just as I was about to turn the key to the lock.Is that you, Eddie? Do you happen to be the one? With this knowledge, I would prepare myself for what was to come. She would be waiting for me at the door, tears streaming down her face, arms crossed, and pupils contracted. Oh no, not again! There would be an ear-rolling noise from me. You don't seem to care that I was scared ill. What made you so careless?" With each passing inquiry, I felt myself shrinking and being smothered. No matter how hard I tried, my responses never quite cut it. Sorry, Mom, I was simply hanging out with some pals. Our sense of time slipped away. "Are you playing catch-up? Come on, Eddie; you're smarter than that. I will not abide by this. Do yourself a favor and start paying attention to me. My mother, I am seventeen years old. You should not be concerned about me at all times. Concerned, however, she was. Every single one. Number two. For some time now. Quite peculiar. It was really frustrating me. Back then, I was confused. What options would I have? Too busy living in my own fantasy and yearning for independence to see the truth. However, in hindsight, I regret not paying closer attention. She was asking questions out of dread and anxiety, and I wish I could have witnessed that. The reason she clung so tightly would become clear to me in due course. I was devastated when I did it. It began like every other day until the day everything changed. My return home was well after curfew had ended. The living room's low lighting framed Mom's face as she waited. "This is something we need to discuss, Eddie." I threw my bag down near the entrance and moaned. "Mom, excuse me. I will not be available tonight. I'm exhausted. So, you're exhausted, huh? I've been up all night worrying about you and trying to figure out where you are. My anxiety for you has kept me from eating. "Are you okay with me?" That was it. "Why must you always exaggerate things to such an extreme?" She recoiled, and I caught a glimpse of her eyes for an instant. Possible pain or letdown. Anger, however, quickly replaced it. A firm "you're grounded" was her word. "I will also be stealing your car keys." "Oh, really? How?" “Mom, that's not possible!” She had already averted her gaze when I objected. "We'll address this first thing in the morning." Slamming the door firmly behind me, I stomped up to my room. Little did I know, it would be the last time I would forcefully shut a door in her face. No one had taken my vehicle the night before. Just departed. With a growing sense of terror, I sprinted back inside. "Aunt Marie! Someone has taken my automobile! She lifted her eyes from her coffee, her expression unruffled. I relocated it, Eddie. As soon as you begin to take responsibility, you will regain it. You can't just steal my automobile! I couldn't believe it! I got it from my grandma! It is not within your authority—" You may call me mom. I am acting in your best interest. Furious and certain in my mission to get my vehicle, I stomped furiously back to my room. My strategy came to fruition at that moment. Her storage facility was no secret to me. That was bound to happen. I sneaked into her room and found the keys after she went for her doctor's visit. It was wrong, but my rage was stronger than my shame. My independence needed to be regained. I loved and cherished my automobile. To me, it meant the world. A wave of victory washed over me as I pulled into the storage unit. Here, I'd demonstrate it to her. It was time for me to take responsibility, therefore I would acquire my automobile. Opening the door, however, caused me to FROST. Secure containers. Plenty of them. With a bow on top. With my name and the dates clearly marked on each one? Reading the labels—"18th birthday," "Graduation," "First job," "Wedding," and "Baby Shower?"—made my stomach plummet. I gingerly unwrapped the 18th birthday package, my palms trembling with anticipation
