Can’t Contact The Parents Will Go To No Contact Pretty Darn Soon

My dad is installing a deadbolt lock on our front door. I’m on my way out the door to work when I pause.

Me: “Hey, I’m going to need a copy of the new key before I go.”

Dad: “What for?”

Me: “So I can come inside the house after my shift is done.”

Dad: “You don’t need it.”

Me: “I don’t need a key to the front door of the house I live in?”

Dad: “I can’t sleep unless everyone is home, so I’ll let you in.”

Me: “What? No, that’s not going to work.”

Dad: “It will too.”

Me: “So you’re going to stay up until almost eleven pm, even though you have to get up at four am, just to let me in?”

Dad: “Don’t be stupid, you don’t get home that late.”

Me: “…I’ve had this job for two years. How do you still not know what time I get home? The restaurant closes at nine-”

Dad stops what he’s doing, stands up straight, and pins me with A Look. Any child knows what I mean when I say this is a Parent Look, and it is A Look That Is Not To Be Argued With.

Dad: “Don’t argue with me, just go.”

Me: “Dad—”

Dad: “Stop being an idiot and go.”

So, I go to work. The restaurant closes at nine, the last customers are out by nine-thirty, and we’re cleaning and doing closing duties until after ten, meaning I pull into our driveway around 10:30 PM. The front door is locked, all the lights are off, and no one answers when I call both the landline and both my parents’ cell phones. I even go around back and bang on the wall of their bedroom, the window was too high to reach, and none of it works.

Me: “You have GOT to be kidding me.” *Leaving a voicemail for Dad.* “I thought you said you can’t sleep unless everyone is home. It’s eleven pm, I just got home from work, and you locked me out. I have school tomorrow, and you left me out here, knowing I didn’t have a key. You either forgot about me, or you did this on purpose.”

Out of options, I do the only thing I can think of: I remove the screen from my bedroom window and climb in that way. I shut and lock the window behind me, then I’m finally able to shower, change, and get into bed a little after midnight. After school the next day, my parents are waiting for me, arms folded.

Mom: “I can’t believe you would damage the house like that.”

Me: “How did I damage the house?”

Dad: “You took the screen out of your window! I installed that window myself. I’m going to make you pay for a replacement window.”

Me: *Mocking voice.* “I can’t sleep unless everyone is home.”

Mom: “What?”

Me: “Dad locked me out last night, and neither of you woke up despite me calling, knocking, and banging on the walls. I’m at work until after ten pm, Dad gets up at four am, and he swore he’d be awake to let me in last night. Well, he WASN’T. I climbed through the window because you locked me out.”

Dad: “Oh, come on. I get up early for work—”

Me: *Yelling.* “—I TOLD you that you wouldn’t be awake, and you insisted! You even told me to stop being an idiot! YOU WERE THE IDIOT. GIVE ME A KEY.”

Dad: “There’s no reason that you need a key! Just be home before I go to bed! It’s that simple!”

Mom: “Wait, she can’t. You’re in bed by eight, and she works until ten. How is she supposed to get in? Why didn’t you give her a key?”

Dad: “SHE DOESN’T NEED A KEY!”

Me: “Why?”

Dad: “There’s no reason for you to have a key. None. You should be home before I go to bed, end of discussion.”

Me: “Fine, I’ll just quit my job then.”

Dad: “The h*** you will!”

Mom: “Don’t be dramatic.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll keep my job. I’ll just tell everyone at school, like the guidance counselor and the school officer, that my parents make me sleep outside at night because they deliberately lock me out of the house at night.”

Dad: “Oh my god. You can get inside just fine.”

Me: “And yet, I’m in trouble for doing just that! You said I damaged the house, and that you were going to make me pay for a new window.”

Dad: “Fine, since you want to come inside like that so much, do it. Fine. I don’t care.”

Me: “I wouldn’t have to do that if you would just give me a key to the front door!”

Dad: “You don’t need a key! Just call us.”

Incredulous, near tears out of pure frustration, I snatch my father’s phone off the table, go to his voicemail, and put it on speaker. They’re both silent as they listen. Then, I march to the answering machine and play the two messages I left on that.

Me: “I did. Here’s the proof. Neither of you answered. Now, am I getting a key to the front door, or do I have to keep going through the window every night I work?”

I never got a key. I was forced to go through my window every night I worked until I moved out. I did tell my teachers and other family members the story, but they all thought it was funny.