My Dad Should Be At Work

From the ages of 8- 14, I lived in a very volatile home. Coming home from school, I never knew if it was going to be a quiet day in my house or if the entire house would be engulfed in screaming. I dreaded the weekends, that meant that everyone was going to be home. Everyone home meant that things could easily go up to flames in just a millisecond. I tried my best to never be home, I would spend the days with my friends. I knew that when I got home there was a 90% chance of everyone fighting. One day in the summer of 2012, things got too heated, and my mom finally decided to move. We packed up everything in a few hours while my stepfather was at work. We moved into my best friend’s home for a few days until we found an apartment within the school district to move into.

A few years had past since my family had become a statistic, when my sister and brother left home on their way to their own goals in life. This new change produced even a greater effect on me than did the departure of my father. Now came the time where I decided if no one else had to stay in the family, neither did I. I took this opportunity to become closer to my friends and their families hoping to become more welcome there than I did at home. It was not long after my constant deviation from what was left of my family that my mother decided she was going to keep me out of the house for extended periods of time. Now the time had come for me to really find my path in life.

It was spring break, I was around 7 years old, and my family and I were on a vacation in Florida with a lot of our friends.

I was the sixth grade i was sitting in english class reading a book when i suddenly got a call slip.

In around the second grade I had just moved schools. Around mid-year we had our school talent show. I really wanted to be in it, but I was still young and I was a little scared. I remember

“Screaming, crying, perfect storm” as Taylor Swift once wrote, perfectly describes the state that my family has been for the past few years. As my mother was achieving her dream by moving to America, my dad was falling deeper and deeper into his mental complication and depression due to the sudden change of foreign culture exposure. Eventually, my parents decided to get the divorce my sister and I expected for quite some time. Considering our economic status, we could not afford the bill for two separate apartments; so heavy and unpleasant tensions between each other developed as my parents continued to live under the same roof. As time has passed, I have become more aware of the sacrifices my parents have made in order to raise my sister and

Even as my older brothers were failing their classes and disrespecting my parents, I continued to set and achieve my goals while still being a pillar for my family. Even though I didn't have the same opportunities as my peers, I still enrolled and excelled at some of the hardest courses throughout middle school and high school. Even though we have introduced and gave home to two younger boys to our family and have shifted the balance once again, I still managed to maintain an aire of normalcy and maintain my grades. Even with three older siblings who have barely passed high school and one who didn’t finish at all, I am still going to be the first go to college and I do have lofty ambitions which I do plan to accomplish. Even though nobody could probably fathom or understand what I’ve been through, what I’ve seen, what I’ve felt, I am determined to not let that hinder me, and to make a future for myself without

I think I was about 11 years of age. It was a warm September evening. Our family was getting ready for another cookout. For those of you who don’t know, cookouts are when my family invites other family and/or friends over to cook hot dogs and toast marshmallows over a fire pit in our backyard. Usually after that my dad and I will usually play backyard baseball.

It was summer 2009. I remember because I was around 8, outside playing with all my friends that lived in our street. We were playing a game of kickball like we used to do all the time. It was dark outside and I lived in the bad side of town, but my street was a safe place where everyone knew each other and got along pretty well. Plus, the street lights were always on. It was me my sister

My mom always complains about me. Everything about me must always be changed that way I fit into the false image she has of a perfect daughter. I wear contacts even when I sleep because my eyes are too dark according to my mom. I must sew everything I want to wear, yet orur must be approved by mom because she is the only one smart enough to decide what I wear. My natural hair color is black as night so mom forces me to dye it twice a day. My mom doesn't want me to go to school so she teaches me everything I need to know at home. I an almost never allowed to leave home. When I an allowed to leave mom watches me like a hawk. Nothing is ever good enough for mom. I an sick of conforming to her strict rules and trying to be what she dreams I will be.

The next morning when we got up we expected Rascal to still be up stairs but he wasn’t. So we all started getting worried but it turns out my mom brought him downstairs. So we went got ready and went to school. I was in 7th grade I think and well that was

The love for my family is still there even through all the judgmental things, they only wanted the best for me. Twenty-three more than independent is what family can call memory now. In my opinion, having children at a young age motivates you more in life than you can think of. The first few months of moving always thinking if a tire was to blow out on this highway who could I call? The negativity in my head almost got to me. Seven months later I’m still here, still loving the city, but no longer crying. God got me and hasn’t brought me this far to fail. Back in school and so happy with myself, all in all what I’m saying is never doubt what you can do. Going through tough times and can make you or break you. Surprising my entire and went all the way out the box to do what everyone said I

me down with his harsh words. At this point, I was too young to understand

It was in the hot Summer when I was getting ready for camp. I was all ready to go with my sparkly shoes on, and my Ariel shirt on. My mom told Madison and I to go outside and wait, so my sister casually ran out. I was really little, about 3 and my sister was 8. I always like opening and closing car doors, which is a really weird thing to like, but I was practicing for when I was older, or I just thought it was fascinating to see that there was a handle that could magically open a car door. I was a strange child, as you can already see.

It was the summer before my fourth grade year. I was nine years old, and just like any other stereotypical nine year old, I decided I was responsible enough to own my