My Life

Freshman Year of Highschool

Abraham has passed away for two months already and my mom hasn't gotten any better. I've tried to comfort her but I just don't know how. I've tried to talk to her and hug her, she just doesn't want my attention. She's been talking to other guys online and has been going on some type of dates at night when she thinks I'm asleep. I'm not. I lie awake every night waiting for her to come back home. I worry about her.

The times she does come home are more or less within a day or two. Still though, who leaves their kid without any inclination as to where or why?

I knew she was going through a tough time but even as a 12 year old I knew better. Then again, I've always been a little more mature for my age. Still, my mother went on dates and came home late.

Fast forward a little to August. The beginning of school. My freshman year of high school. Such an exiting time for me. I tried ever so hard to forget that Abraham couldn't see me go but life is life and you just got to roll with it.

I started high school like any average kid. Went to classes, hung out with my friends, blushed every time I seen my crush. But, when I went home, it was a completely different story. I never did my homework, because I had to clean the house before my mother got home, then I had to pick my brother up from our neighbor's house, waited for my other brother to come home from school, then cooked them dinner.

It was pretty hard for me, because I had to be their mom. I couldn't go out with friends and I couldn't be a kid. I took on responsibilities that were way out of my age range. A normal kid would take the trash out, or clean the bathroom from time to time. I had to clean the whole house, and cook, and take care of my brothers; made sure they did their homework, made sure they were fed, made sure they didn't fight each other.

After a while, slacking off in high school caught up to me and my grades started slipping. I got into arguments with my Mom about it because she believed that school was important but I had no way to succeed in school for home conditions.

My mother and I argued constantly to the point where we were screaming at each other almost everyday. She finally decided it was time for me to move with my father in Los Angeles.

I didn't think she was going to go through with it at first but when she started packing my stuff I got scared. She was being completely serious though.

About a week later my father came to collect me from my mother's home. Went out like I usually did when my father visited then gathered and loaded my things into his mini van. It was a long four hour drive.

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Authors note: I'm sorry this was short but I thought publishing it this way would help.