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Rated: · Essay · Drama · #1340622
An assignment for my Composition class. A Narrative Essay.
“Fine Erin, you tell them if you want. I won’t be here. You can deal with them,” My dad yelled harshly.
I crouched against the wall in the hallway. The front door slammed shut with a shudder. I walked into the living room, looking at its pure white walls and hard wood flooring. I saw my mom standing in the middle of the room, staring at a place near the wall where I assumed my dad had been just a second before. For a minute, I just stood watching her; then, deciding that she would need some comfort, I went to her side. She jumped when she noticed my presence.
         “Oh, sweetheart, you scared me,” my mom sighed, bending down to look me in the eyes, her long brown hair sweeping behind her, and her blue eyes as bright as stars taken from the sky. She was beautiful, but today she looked at me with deep sadness.
         “What do me and Krista need to know momma?” I asked.
“Oh, you heard that?”
         “Just the last part, yeah.”
         “Well, let me get Krista in here, and I can tell both of y’all together.”
My mom stood up quiet quickly and walked down the hall. A minute later she came back out with Krista trailing behind her, Krista’s red hair in a pony tail, her eyes asking questions in my direction. Eight-years-old Krista is too smart for her own good, I thought. As Krista sat down on the couch, I went to sit beside her.
         “What’s wrong with mommy?” Krista asked me looking worried.
“I don’t know yet, I think she’s going to tell us though,” I replied without looking at her.
Our mom sat in front of us, on the bow legged coffee table which stood like a majestic horse. As she took both of our hands, her eyes welled with tears.
         

“Now I know this is going to be hard for both of y’all, but I’m just going to say now that we can pull through this,” Momma said searching our eyes.
“What is it, Mommy? Why are you crying?” Krista asked.
“Your father and I are getting a divorce,” Momma said quickly. “Were not going to be married anymore, and I’m not going to live here anymore.”
         “What?” I whispered. “What’s going to happen to us?”
         “We don’t know yet,” my mom replied.
         “You don’t know?”
         “As soon as we work out all the details we’ll fill you in, but until then, you both will probably stay here.”
         “How long is this going to take? What if we don’t want to stay here? Did y’all even think about us?” I yelled.
         “I want to stay here,” Krista retorted beside me.
         “Of course you do, Krista. You don’t like momma, you like Daddy more,” I screamed angrily at her.
         
“There’s no need to talk to your sister like that Ashley. You know this is for your own good,” my mom said.
         “How is it for our own good? That doesn’t make sense.”
         “We would never want to hurt - -”
         “I don’t care what you say; its not going to make a difference anyway,” I screamed as I ran out of the house. I got on my bike and started riding. I rode along the streets and watched as the kids played happily. “Why is this happening?” I thought. “I don’t understand. Is it my fault that they can’t do this? I was always way too hard on them, never doing what I was told. I never listened, that’s why the fought all the time. I am going to be on my best behavior, and then they will stop talking about this, and our family can stay together. As long as I am good, and I take care of Krista, there won’t be so much pressure on them.”
         I felt a little better so I went back home. When I walked in, the living room was empty. The sunlight shot through the window blinds and landed on the hard wood floor. As the light danced across the floor, the dust in the air was illuminated mid flight. The perfectly white walls taunted me, an abstract painting hung by a nail, breaking the purity. The coffee table with one wobbly leg that did not quite reach the floor tried to comfort me.
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