Personal Narrative: How Divorce Changed My Life

LLauren, unlike me, absolutely despises rain. I think its because the day my Dad made the divorce between my real mother clear, it was raining really hard. I remember that day. I think that was when I figured out the rain didn’t have to be something bad. I cried, and nobody noticed. They still thought I was strong, while I was cryi-“Hurry up!” Cherise whines outside the car. I groan, and survey the area enough to know that we’re at school. The moped expressions plastered on the students faces give it away. According to my stepsister, Cherise, she is the most popular, prettiest, and best girl at school. I snort as she guides me through her self -obsessed tour of herself. She’s even worse then Brittany Miller, one of my sister’s old bullying

I walked away feeling like I was a complete failure and that I didn’t deserve to go on. On the way home my mother tried to talk to me, but, I put on my headphones and cried silently. Once we were home my father asked how it went. The tears that were in my eyes and they became more evident as my shoulders and chest were shaking and trembling. The only sound in the room was the sound of me crying and wailing. I started crumbling and falling to the ground and my mother and father rushed to my side. They held me until the tears came to a stop and a little bit afterwards

“Welcome home Father! We have missed you so much,” I cried. “Thank you, Mary I’ve missed you as well,” he said with a quick smile quickly turning back into a frown. “What is the matter; did I do something wrong,” I say getting frightened. “Oh no sweetheart, it is definitely not you it’s just that... never mind. Where is your mother?” “She went outdoors to hang the laundry,” I replied, biting my lip knowing that it’s my job to do the laundry.”Thank you,” he yells, already out the door. As I make my way outside, I see my father worriedly talking to my mother as a look of

After the couple shook hands with dad and the real estate agent, they got into their minivan and drove away. I stood on top of the staircase and eavesdropped and felt like I had been punched in the stomach when I heard the news. I overheard that the couple was ready to move in as soon as possible because the wife was expecting a set of twins, plus they already had an older child. While dad showed his enthusiasm about getting rid of the house, I felt sick. Whenever the agent suggested to dad that we should start packing, I felt weak and went to lie down on my bed.

Warily, I walked over to where my father was standing right outside the school, waiting for Cole and I, when I saw he had shades on, I knew for sure that something was wrong, due to the fact he never wore shades. When we were to the pick-up my whole family was in there. Noticing, when I jumped in the pick-up, my mother also had shades on. Anxiously, I sat there attentively for the longest second of my life, then my father stammered to us that grandfather had passed away. Countless emotions were running through me, overwhelmed; I didn’t know what to think, raving; owing to they said he was going to be adequate, grieving; due to I didn’t get to talk t6o my grandfather before he passed

I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.

"Don't worry, Tori," my dad tried to tell me before he died, but twelve-year-old me wasn't listening. I was too scared, because if my dad said those words, it meant they were going to be his final ones. "Victoria, look at me. Please, Tori, just look." I had never before heard his voice like this. He was pleading with me, his voice sounding so broken. "When I go wherever I'm going, I don't want to go there knowing that you're lost. I want you to know that you need to keep being my happy little girl." My hands were clamped over my ears, but I could still hear him quietly sobbing.

When we headed up to her room to prepare for bed, the night hit rock bottom. It started with her ranting about how mad and upset she was with me, but the second I tried to explain that I’d done nothing, and didn’t deserve her comments all night long, it escalated quickly. Her shrieks projected off the ceiling, echoing throughout the room; I swear the whole block could hear her. Suddenly, the heat of the atmosphere rose: tension. My heart raced. My body paralyzed.

As I watched my house crumbled into a million pieces, my legs started to quiver to the point where I could no longer stand on my own two feet. Everything… everything I’d ever loved was inside: my diary, my family photos, my childhood memories. I couldn’t take the pain any more so I began to thrash around the frozen, forlorn floor like a fish on a hook. As my pupils rolled back, flashbacks rolled in. The picture of a child lying in bed while her parents read her a bedtime story replayed in my mind. Images of a primary school girl showing her parents the pictures she drew of them, as a family, wouldn’t fade away. All those memories…now gone. Forever.

“You understand what your father has been going through lately” cried mum. I shook my head, trying not to speak because if I did I knew it would end in tears. “We have 2 months left with your father” these words barley made it out before her head caved into my lap in dread of what was to come. As I patted the back of her head my little brother who

I was on my way to tutoring about to get into the car. When my parents get into an argument. It was a normal occurrence that happened every time. I already knew that my parents were getting a divorce. But I didn’t expect anything bad from the argument but it began to get physical.

I had never seen her cry like this. She explained to me that she was scared of our step dad and ran to the only safe place she knew at the time. I, being a little nine year old, didn’t know any better than to love my step dad. He had never done anything wrong to me,but she despised him. We went to bed and I thought nothing of it.

Divorce is something well known to many of my peers. I have had to deal with it not just once, but twice. In 2002, my Mom and Dad split. Almost two years later, my Mom remarried to the man who was my childhood father figure. Being that all three parents were military, my Dad and I did not live close to each other. My Dad was stationed at different bases, sometimes a base half way across the world. This caused a stronger bond to my stepfather, Jason. Over the course of 11 years, Jason and I grew a father-daughter relationship.

One of the hardest years of my life was 2012 and it impacted my life, the way I see things, and the way I act towards people in everyday life. Almost losing my mom made me appreciate every second I had with my loved ones. When my mom nearly died, and it changed me forever.

My dad was with me the whole time and always holding my hand. My mom was crying of how scared she was.