Chained

My world

I woke with a frown my face this morning. Three weeks ago my family  moved from Georgia to Alabama. More like half a family moved there. My big sis, Trisha, is in Yale learning engineering. My 13 year old brother ran away 2 years ago but now I will have new brother because my mom is pregnant with a baby boy. His name is either John or Aaron. I like Aaron more. That's my weird and interesting family. But I need my family. All of them. It can be hard to move. My house in Georgia was a townhouse near a park and a move theater. It sounds like the perfect place. I could never to the park and can you imagine me at the movies. Everyone thinks I've been in a car accident when they look down at feet. Can you blame them. If I was normal I would sneak a peek one or twice too. One time a little boy in front of me at the movies went under my seat to ached one of my stitches. I scram out in pain. As you might imagine it made a big scene. But enough about movies. 

At my old school it was 30 minutes away. My new house was a moderate size home on 3rd kings street. I love the location because it's near a Burger King, don't judge me, and 5 minutes away from my new school.

I sat on the stairs and slowly scooted down while lifting my clubbed foot so no pain came to it. As I did I smelled the buttery goodness of a blueberry muffin awaiting me. My mom knew what I need. When got to the bottom of the stairs I got my crutches and hoped over to a stool. As I looked around me I saw many boxes. We have already unpacked our clothes but had a long way to go. I saw the piano in the living room. I was my fathers. I don't talk much about. No one does, he is a memory and piece of many life's nothing else. He was a soldier, a dad, a husband, and a hero to everyone but no one will no. He died in Iraq. Helping his friend and my uncle. He carried him to safety after seeing him wounded, then head into the battle ground. A few minutes later a bomb landed near him but he didn't die from that, he was helping other wounded soldiers to the nurses when behind a man from the other side shot him in the head. I still remember the funeral. That piano brings back the happy memories. I even started taking piano class.
I looked back at my muffin as I start to cry. My mom was behind me and hugged me tight as she began to cry. I love my mom's hugs because I felt as though I was next to a fire like on Christmas. I guess she was as sad as I was. I sniffled through my tears and started eating my soft and tasty muffin. I took a sip of my orange juice and went back up stairs and went on my bed. There was a reason I frowned this morning and I didn't have a frown on my face because I moved. Most are upset leaving their friends and home but I'm not most people. In Georgia I had no friends. I was different. Not that kind of different where you are unique and special, it's the kind where people make fun of, tease, and abuse. No one even tried to get to know me and as a person. They only saw the ugly person I looked. I am a crippled, a clubbed foot, a disease. That's what they saw. I have no disease but that's what they saw. I am glad I moved but I am mad about something. Something that gave me a frown on my face, a thing that I wish was an object so I can punch and break it into a million pieces. That thing was school.