|Indya, or whatever|
"Dad do we really have to do this?" I asked putting my clothes in a box.
"Yes. This is a good opportunity for us." He said helping me.
I sighed and said," I'm good where I'm at."
"Now you know you aren't good here. You got into you're third fight this week." he said, focusing on me.
"So what. It's not like moving across the country is going to change me." I said with an attitude, still packing.
Ya see, my dad is making us move from New York, to California. Los Angeles, to be exact. I don't want to leave my friends, but there are "better opportunities" in LA. Like, New York is just a more sane Cali. It's not like I'm going to change. I'm always go be that real nigga that does drugs and doesn't give a fuck about anybody. I've been this way since my moms died when I was 13. She was a workaholic. So it was a day for a school play, and I was the main character. It was the end of my play and there was no sign of my ma. In the middle of the play, my dad ran in and pulled me off the stage. He took me to the hospital and I saw my moms being rushed in the ER. Blood was all over her body. I broke down instantly. 5 long hours later, the doctor told us that they did everything they could. He apologized and I went home and cried. Ever since then, I've been fighting and doing drugs.
I was brought back into reality when my dad said it was time to go.
I followed him to the car and we went to the airport.
We got on the plane and left. Goodbye New York
--------------------------
What do you think so far?
I'm new to this, so bare with me.
It's short, I know, but they're gonna get longer and more interesting as we go.
Vote and comment please💕
- Nycolee💋
