Jaleah didn't have much growing up. For as long as she's known, her family lived paycheck to paycheck, making ends meet with what they had. But, Jaleah always wanted to get out of that life. She always knew that one day, she would make it out.
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jaleah's perspective.
"Jaleah, we're getting a divorce."
I sit on the couch, zoned out. I can hear what my parents are saying but I honestly am in shock. I just feel like I've dealt with so much trauma these past few weeks, why would my parents throw this on me right now? They couldn't wait a few days or a few months?
"Did you hear your mom?" My dad asks.
I don't respond. I just get up from the couch and go upstairs. What else is life going to hand me?
I walk past my sister's room, which hasn't been touched since the last time she was in there. The last time I saw her before she passed was that night in her room. I was so upset at her and for what? For living her life?
Instead of going into my room, I go into her room and close and lock the door behind me. Everything was still set up the same. All of her perfumes sitting on her dresser, her clothes hung up in the closet, her bed still messy and the bean bag she was in before she snuck out still had a dent in it. I miss my sister so much.
Why did she have to die so young? She was like one of the people I was closest with, no matter how much we argued. We're teenagers, of course we're going to fight! I just wish we didn't have to fight that night. I also wish she would've stayed home, maybe then she'd be okay.
I look through her clothes and start pulling them out. They all remind me of different moments we shared. Times we've spent laughing and having a good time, times we've spent crying and venting, and so much more. She was really my baby. My baby sister.
I sit down in the bean bag and begin sobbing. Everything is just a lot right now. My sister is gone, my parents are splitting up and I'm depressed. I don't get why my life has to go like this. I've tried to do everything right and this is what I get? What is the point, then?
After a few minutes, I pull myself together. I get up to leave her room and take one last look around. Before I go to school, I need to pack up some of her stuff for me to keep.
I go into my bedroom and close and lock my door. I take out the phone Israel got for me a few weeks ago to contact him. I haven't spoken to anyone since the funeral really. I've just been in such a funk.
I hesitate but decide to call Israel. I need an escape and I know I'll at least get a distraction out of him.
After a few rings, he picks up the phone. "Hello?" He answers, sounding surprised.
