Home Alone

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When I turned 16, my parents began to allow me more freedoms that I had previously been

denied. They extended my curfew and reduced oversight over my life. It felt really good to see that

while other parents were still controlling every aspect of their children's lives and my parents were

allowing more autonomy. Since they had raised me to be honest and responsible, they felt that I could

make correct decisions. As a result, they trusted me to stay home while they spent a weekend away

from home to celebrate their anniversary.

My first reaction to this decision was excitement since I could do anything I wanted—within

reason—while they were away. However, as the weight of the announcement sunk in, I began to feel

anxious. I was responsible for the house, myself, and our dog Rocky for the whole weekend. I could

not leave for the night and had to feed and walk our dog everyday. These responsibilities were simple

tasks that I have completed before but also have forgotten many times in the past.

Despite my reservations, I told my parents that would be fine alone. They stocked the freezer

with easily prepared foods (I could work the over and stove but knew nothing about cooking from

scratch”. They gave me the phone numbers to the bed and breakfast at which they were staying in case

I could not reach them on their cellular phones. While they trusted my judgment, they still gave me

guidelines to follow while they were away. “There are to be no parties and no boys over while we are

gone,” my dad said sternly. “I understand” I responded as I blushed. I couldn't even talk to the boy that

I had a crush on let alone invite him over. They left late in the evening and I decided to go to bed soon

after.

The next day I was on top of my responsibilities. I fed and walked the dog, made breakfast,

cleaned the dishes, and completed some school projects due the following Monday. It was a long,

lonely day without my family there so I called three of my girl friends to stay with me for the night. I

had planned on a relaxing evening watching movies and talking about makeup or boys or whatever we

wanted.

My friends, aware of the lack of supervision, told me to throw a party. After all, how often is a

teenager left alone for a whole weekend. I told them I could not allow it. They persisted telling me that

there would be plenty of time to clean up Sunday before my parents returned but I continued to resist. I

had already dropped the ball once and did not want to disobey their explicit instructions on top of it.

My friends dropped the idea of a party and we continued to talk.

Again there was a knock at the door. This time, however, it was strong but calm. “Who could

that be?” my friend Melissa asked with a smirk. “Who did you invite?” I asked the girls. They

shrugged and I went to the door to see. I peeked through the glass to see my crush, John, standing with

three other guys. There he was, the boy that I thought about constantly. He was not only handsome but

also kind and generous. Any other day, I would have killed to be alone with him in my house.

Despite the risk of him thinking I was lame or a prude, I explained to him that I could not let

them in. My parents explicitly forbid boys from coming over and if I allowed them in and my parents

found out, they would lose their trust in me and I would be put back on a short leash. His friends

started to make fun of me and call me names like daddy's girl and prude but I maintained my resolve

and closed the door. My friends, upset that I left the boys outside, got upset at me and tried to convince

me to change my mind. I told them that if they wanted to hang out with the boys so bad, they could do

it elsewhere. They packed their things and ran out the door after the boys. I was alone again and may

have lost my long-time friends as well as any chance to date the boy of my dreams. Even...
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