Life As A Child Was Really Rough

When I was 11, my parents were battling in an ugly divorce. I wasn't seen as a kid because for a brief moment I became an adult that could make tough life changing decisions. As a child , I was confused on what was happening. I didn’t understand why my mom was gone one day, returned the next and then  just gone. I couldn't comprehend why police officers would regularly come to my broken home. The gruesome divorce and after period was an emotional roller coaster that never ended until today. It was difficult to adapt to the new lifestyle with a new single mom. I vividly remember having to sleep on the floor for months , having an empty naked white fridge and having to support my single mother every night as she dealt with depression. Although, life was hard I stayed strong, supported my sisters and accepted the new life I  was given.

My mother worked day and night so I had to care for my sister and cousins. On some occasions I had to help my mom clean houses to earn money. At the age of thirteen up until I was sixteen I was cleaning houses for the people we longed to be. I got a glimpse of a life I have never known. For the most part my mom’s boss was nice, but her family was ignorant at times. They would ask me where I have traveled and if I’ve been to all these kinds of expensive places. When I answered no they asked why not. I guess they didn’t comprehend the fact that my mom and I were cleaning their dishes and making their beds for less than the minimum wage to be able to barely afford the rent of the small room we all

I sat there in my room with tears flowing down my blush pink cheeks. Wondering what was wrong with me, as a salty tear ran along my dried out chapped lips. I thought to myself,” Why am I so miserable? What did I do to deserve this? How am I going to escape this life?” I started to ponder that this was the end of my life, this is how I was going to be, sorrowful. At the lowest point of my life, mother came barging through the door with the look of cavernous concern on her face. She knew that it was time for something to be done, whether I agreed or not.

I went to my living room to ask my mom a question, to see she wasn’t there. I asked my brother “where’s mom?” and he replied with “shes at the hospital, grandpa got burnt.” I would never have expected “grandpa got burnt” to be as severe as it was. I remember my mom coming home around two in the morning. I got up and out of bed to ask some questions. She said “I don’t wanna talk about it right now. Pack some stuff up, we’re going to Waterloo tomorrow.” So I listened and packed up a bag.

I walked silently, my converse crunching on the wet sidewalk. I zipped up my jacket and took a sip of my coffee. I slowly walked towards my school when someone's shoulder slammed in to me. My coffee flew out of my hands, the lid came of as it hit the ground, spilling all over the sidewalk. I stumbled as I tried to regain my balance. I hate this small town I thought to myself. When I returned home I arrived to both of my parents sitting at the table. I looked at them with a confused look, “Ava why don't you take a seat,” Father said “we have something to tell you.” I took a seat not saying a word just giving them a confused look. “Ava honey your father got a promotion,” Mother stated “and we are going to be moving to California!” Fireworks were going off in my head thinking of all of the new things I would get to experience.

Growing up I didn't have a lot of time to read, I did not grow up in a stable environment for children to thrive. When I was in the third grade my life would take a drastic turn into a downward direction. My mother whom I loved so much changed drastically, started locking us out of the house. Doing any type of homework was impossible to accomplish when you are stranded outside. Later that year my parents got a divorce. There was constant turmoil; my mother was now living with a man that would later become my stepfather. Their relationship was very toxic; at first my stepfather seemed charming, we traveled to places we have never been to before. After a couple of years, things changed, they couldn't manage their finances and we were constantly

It felt as if I was surrounded by freezing water while on the inside being burned alive. I let my grades drop I did not care, all that mattered was being an adult and supporting my sister. My teachers did not care, I was invisible. Easy to lose in the crowd.The kids in my grade avoided me because I was “ abnormal” because I did not speak. The people who were supposed to be my guardians did not have enough money to feed both my sister and me. So I did not eat except for what was left over from dinner. I became pale and skinny. I looked like sick all the time. The only time I ate good was every other weekend when I went to my great aunt and uncle's house. This was the very best that life was going to get from me. I believed I was going to end up like my mother a drug user, and have no life. A few years later, my sister and I moved in with my aunt and uncle. They took my sister and me and gave us a great home. We both started to do a lot better. I got healthy and not so sickly looking, I started to talk a lot more, and I got my grades up. Unfortunately, my little sister did not like the fact that she wasn't entitled to anything anymore, and moved back in with our old Guardians.

I asked the doctors whatever happened to my brothers and he claims he does not know. I don’t have insurance, but I did have the forty dollars for shopping. I told the doctor that that was all I had at the moment and that he should accept it because I can’t pay for the medical services. He’s one of those doctors and gladly accepts the money and doesn’t charge me since he knows he’s taken all my money. As he exits the room, another government agent enters informing me of how close I am to being placed in foster care. I inform him that I’ll be eighteen in a few hours so legally I’m going to be an adult and there’ll be no need to place me in foster care since I have three jobs and go to school with decent grades. He smiles at me impressed but pities me also. I’m just lucky to be turning eighteen soon, my life would have been worse if not because I was on the brink of becoming a foster care child. One in foster care, it’s almost impossible to get out and even harder to live life

Started off with me having to move back to Indiana. First, my mom was nowhere to be found, so I wasn’t able to say good bye and that I loved her. I really wanted to be able to hug her one last time. She did the same thing when I was a kid. It made me feel unwanted all over again, so I got on the bus with nothing but 3 bags and no money.

As a kid I only got to see my dad on the weekends and those were the best days I had, I never understood why I couldn't live with my father full time because my mom never lived a stable life. My mother wasn’t as bad as it seems, she always made sure we had food and somewhere to stay even if it wasn't the greatest, even living with my mom my dad still paid for almost everything I had. When I was about 8 years old I lived in Mccomb and it was my dads weekend and I was so excited to get off of school and go see him, When I got home I was shocked to find everything packed up and my mom told me to get in the car, I was so upset to find out that me, my two brother, and her and her boyfriend were off to Florida. The whole trip to Florida I balled my eyes out and all I remember was that I kept saying that I wanted to live with my dad and that I hated my mom, I wondered how she could just up and leave without telling my

The following months a winter, cold and gloomy, surrounded the house. My grandmother came to stay with us since my father had fallen into depression and needed help taking care of my sister and I. When my grandmother went grocery shopping my sister would struggle with homework without my grandmother’s help. One day when my grandmother left to go grocery shopping my sister approached me, which was unusual of her since its very rare for her to come to me. Her dark brown hair and big eyes reminded me of my self when I was younger. “I’m hungry” she complained, a question she’s never asked me. My father sleeping and my grandmother away, I was the only one left to take care of her and that terrified me. I had never cared for or known how to care for someone else. All I knew was how to evaluate whether or not someone was caring for another correctly.

At a young age, having all four of my grandparents die was crushing. One in front of me, two by suicide and one to cancer. In the second grade when my dad went to rehab, not only eroding our relationship, but also tearing apart my family. As a result, during my third grade year, sleep was rare due to the echoing fighting that I would hear in the adjacent room. Meanwhile this lack of sleep only made school worse. Being called a “retard” because dyslexia made it a pain in the ass to read. This fearful environment slowly began to embed anxiety into my young self. Now that my family was begging to get tired of my hometown in Arizona, we packed our bags and moved to San Diego. In 6th grade is where I got into my first fist fight in the middle school locker room, where Mr. Beckley had to break us apart. Only giving me the “new kid” a bad reputation to some, but respect to others. The ones who began to give me respect, would only bring me down further than I already was. On to my later years in middle school where I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Witch felt like a constant rain cloud over me at all times, where the weight of my bed sheets was too much to handle. Therefor causing more chaos in my family. This would give myself an almost constant knot in my throat ready to break down and cry at any part of the day. But like any story, there's light at the end of the tunnel. No matter how long it seems or how dark it gets, there is... Going into my freshman things

You don’t know how much I love my mom. She’s always been there for me at times when I don’t feel good. She helps me go through rough times, I just don’t know how to thank her. She is a one of a kind mother who is very unique inside and very special to me. Okay now i’m going to tell you a something that was going on in 2nd grade. So I was like around seven or eight years old and these two girls were bullying me just because I was the first one in line, anyways they both send me at the end of the line and my mom immediately went to both of Sherry’s and Melissa’s parents to let them know what was going on. My mom went up to them told them to leave me alone because I never did anything wrong and that I don’t deserve to be treated

Doctor Bush, studied that most children that grow up in rough or crime related neighborhoods are more likely to focus more in school.

Every night, as I sat on the table with my younger brothers assisting them with their homework, I hear a familiar sound at the door. As she walks her heels click, and I can hear her searching her bag for her keys, the next thing I know the keys are in the lock and as it turns me and my younger brothers’ jump. We run to the door and indeed we scream in unison “Mommy’s home”, one by one she gives us a hug and a kiss. My mother asks us how our day was, and if we finished our homework, she then looks to me and said “did you cook and assist your younger ones with their homework”; I replied “yes mom”. As I warm the food, I take my mother’s purse, jacket, and shoes put them away and prepare the table for her to eat dinner. As I glance at the