Would Life Always Be Deplorable?

On a Sunday morning of March 15 1998, we woke up super early to the phone ringing on the other side was my dad. My grandmother answered the phone her face paled as she heard the words “mom I shot myself.” After talking to him for a bit my grandmother rushed out of her room to get my uncle up and they rushed to the house to see him up walking around with a hole in his stomach. Ambulance came to get him then rushed him to meet life force. He flat lined once on the helicopter. They were able to bring him back and stabilized him, and kept him stabled till they got to the hospital. They rushed him immediately into the OR, it was around 15 to 20 minutes into surgery that he had passed away, they were unable to bring him back due to the major loss of blood. My mom soon remarried and I gained two annoying step brothers and a step dad. One step brother didn’t bother me to bad, the other one poked and picked on me trying to pick fights. My step dad had episodes where he was violent and threw things at me and my mom. I withdrew more and more until a few of my friends literally grabbed me by my arm and told me to wake up that they were not going to let me push them away

Every day I went to see my father, in the worst state I have ever seen anyone. He could not talk to me, look at me, feel my touch or remember I was there. My dad had been unconscious for almost a month and a half. Even he gained back consciousness, he could barely remember anything that had happened or that anyone had come to see him. I believe the thing that had changed me the most had been that I had to grow up and make extremely adult decisions suddenly. My boyfriend and I had been the only ones in my family who were responsible enough to talk to the police, the doctors, and put together the pieces. We had numerous talks with the police about the reports, what happened and when, who had hit him and where was his vehicle. Unfortunately, the police had a description of a car but had not an idea as to who had hit him. I also had fed his dogs every day and kept his house safe, making sure that no one had broken into his home. I also had taken care of his insurance. I talked to the doctors about big decisions and surgeries. Even after my father had been released from the hospital’s care, he had been taken to Greenville County Detention Center on charges of a

It all started on a warm sunny day, my dad had just arrived from Michigan. He came into the house gave my siblings, my mother and me a hug and told us the big news. “We are moving to Michigan” he said. He said it so calmly as if expecting my siblings, my mother and myself to react in a good way. Immediately I started to panic, I didn’t want to leave the place I grew up in. I was only eleven years old, I didn’t know how the people in Michigan would be. Finally I spoke “ I don’t want to move dad, I love it here!” which he responded with “I’m sorry but we are going to move because we can’t afford to live here anymore” He said this so emotionless as if not knowing how this could affect me. I hardly got any sleep that night for the fact that my parents were arguing for what felt like all night, but in reality was just an hour.

I came home one day to see both of my parents sad. As a third grader, I didn’t completely understand at the time, but my father had been laid off from the job he’d had since his teenage years. My father had started at the age of eighteen as a student worker at Southern Miss, and after years of hard work he had been promoted to the manager of shipping and receiving on campus. When the recession struck, the need to save money resulted in his position being terminated. My father was without a job. My father loved that job and when he lost it, he changed. He found a new love, alcohol. He let his love for alcohol become an addiction. He would do anything for alcohol; he even had secret stashes when my mom had removed all the prior alcohol from the house. Quickly my father became a violent drunk and began to routinely beat my mother and me. He became unstoppable; no person could get him back on track so my mother, in an attempt to keep me safe, removed him from the house. Even my mother’s best efforts weren’t always enough, as my father constantly broke into our house. One day my mother and I came home and my father was waiting in our den with a gun. We walked in, he pointed the gun at us, and then back at himself. He couldn’t decide to kill my mother, himself, or just all of us. He had more hatred in his eyes

In Eagle River, Wisconsin June of 2006 my parents and I made the 30 minute drive from my brothers camp, Kawaga, to mine, Chippewa. I was seven years old sitting in the back seat of this car thinking about how my brother, Max, loves his camp so I would too. However, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. We arrived and my parents stopped the car to take a picture of me in front of the big red rustic sign “Chippewa Ranch Camp” it said. As we drove down the long dirt driveway it finally hit me that I was about to get out of this car and not see my parents for an entire month. I couldn’t even spend the night out I would call them to pick me up at midnight from my friends homes, how in the world was I going to survive four whole weeks of

When I was 3 years old my mother and father got divorced. My father was abusive due to drugs and my mother couldn't handle it anymore. After my parents got divorced my sister Julie and I saw my father every other weekend. My father got more into drugs after the divorce and my sister and I didn’t get to see him much. When I was 7 years old my father got put in jail. Since my sister and I were only children we didn't understand why our father left. Our father was in and out of county jail during our life D.U.I’s, starting fights with people, hitting my mother. We didn’t know much about what our father did because he didn’t want us to know because we were too young. But my father was sentenced about 30 days in county jail. My sister and I missed

I was panicking I didn’t know what I did I thought I was in some kind of trouble, but when I got to the principal’s office, there were 2-3 police officers there waiting for me. They sat me down with a concerned look and told me some terrible news. These few words that I could never get out of my head. It’s as if there locked in a prison. They told me that my father was in an accident at first I thought that they were just talking about a car accident. I had no idea what to expect. Then they told me that my father had passed away I started balling my eyes out I didn’t know what to do. They soon drove me back to my house where I saw my brother and a few neighbors and friends. There were a few cop cars and an ambulance. I later found out that he had committed suicide. My aunt and uncle came and picked us up from my house and brought us to their house where they tried to cheer us up a bit it was my cousins birthday so we tried to have a

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

That day it went by to fast my brother and I tried spending as much time as I could with my dad. That night I went to bed sad I didn’t know if i would wake up in time to say goodbye to him. That morning I woke up and ran to see if my dad was still here. I ran into the kitchen first where I saw him eating ready to leave. He said that they were going to pick him up in ten minutes. Next thing you know we here a knock on the door. I went to answer the door it was some men in uniforms they were there to pick my dad up. My dad said goodbye to us I started to cry when he was leaving and so did my brothers and mom.

The sky was dark with only the street lights there to help me see. It was around 9:00 PM and I saw that the lights were still on inside my house. Now that meant that my parents were still up, so I knew they were going to be angry. I was hanging out with some friends and just didn’t want any of it from my parents. I opened the door and the second I stepped into the house, my mom started yelling.

I loved growing up in New York City more than anything. The life I once lived was everyone 's dream life. I went to a private high school in the Upper East Side and I was always getting the new trends before they even hit the market. Me and my friends would go out to bars and clubs using our fake ids and we always found a way to get drinks and have the best time of our lives. My life was pretty awesome. Then everything changed over the summer going into my senior year of high school. I could remember the day like it was yesterday, everything happened so fast. My parents were coming home from the airport when a drunk driver struck their limo, killing both my mother and father. I remember being at my friends house when I received the call of the horrifying news. Immediately I rushed home to be with my brother and sister who could not believe what had happened. My entire life changed from that day on. My parents meant everything to me, always looking out for me and making sure my siblings and I had the best life we could possibly have. My brother Liam handled the loss the worst. He drank himself to sleep almost every night. He was the oldest of the family being 24, so he was ruled the guardian of my sister Bridget and I. Child Services came one day unexpectedly to do a check-up to see how we were doing. They came at the worst possible time. Liam was wasted with his friends and Bridget and I were hanging out drinking with them, which was illegal. Once they saw this living

It was the middle of June and I was ecstatic. School was out and I was ready for fun days in the pool, going to camp, and hanging out with friends. In the back of my mind I had something that really kept me from all of the fun I could have been having. I knew that my mom was dying. I knew that if I would have fun, I would feel guilty knowing that she couldn’t experience that with me. One would imagine that I would choose to spend time with my mom knowing that I wouldn’t have her for much longer. Being the selfish little seventh grader that I was, I chose to never be home. Whenever I found an opportunity, I left. I would hug my mom goodbye and leave as quickly as possible. Whenever I didn’t, I huddled in my room under the warm covers of my bed

February twenty-third 2010 was just a regular ordinary day. I was on my way to class on this cold February afternoon, when my phone rung. It was my cousin on the other end telling me to call my mom. I could not figure out what was wrong, so I quickly said okay and I hung up and called my mom. When my mom answered the phone I told her the message but I said I do not know what is wrong. My mom was at work and could not call right away, so I took the effort to call my cousin back to see what was going on. She told me that our uncle was in the hospital and that it did not look good. Starting to tear up I pull over in a fast food restaurant parking lot to listen to more to what my cousin had to say. She then tells me to tell my mom to get to

Devastated, I ran to my room gushing my eyes out. All these emotions going through my head of how my life would be without my parents in the same room or even house. From what I remember it all started about mid-June, the weeks before that were crucial. My parents would always argue over how to deal with a situation between me and my brother, Skyler. They hardly spoke to one another, but when they did they would just start bickering. I remember, one night after dinner they both went into ''their'' room with the door locked yelling at one another. Skyler and I didn’t know what to do, so we went downstairs and tried to figure out what was going to happen. With a scared tone I asked if mom and dad were going to get a divorce?" He answered back '' No, they love each other, they wouldn’t do that to us." That following night, was a school night everything was quiet except for my crying. I couldn’t sleep; all I was thinking about how it's going to affect my family.

Not long after I had turned seven, my mother had demanded a divorce from my father, but he didn’t want one and started to threaten my mother if she left him. For instance, one morning, I recall my mother arguing with my father about him not being around and always being drunk and high on drugs. My father was going around the house punching walls and throwing picture frames and anything he was able to get his hands on. I remember running into my parent’s room and seeing my mother holding on to my little sister with tears rolling down her face. I immediately went to my mother and wrapped my arms around her leg, holding on to her with what seemed like a death grip, afraid that my father was going to do something to her. I figured if I was there, my father wouldn’t do anything. It wasn’t long after, that my father bolted into the room with a handgun, pointing it in the direction of my mother. To my surprise, the words that came out of my father’s mouth next would haunt me for years to come. My father screamed at the top of his lungs, “Hija de tu puta madre, If you even think of leaving me, I will put a bullet in your head! Y si piensas de hablarle a la policia, a tus hijos le hago lo mismo!” It was then, that I knew my father was capable of not only hurting my mother, but my sister and I as well. That same day, my father left the house and didn’t return for two days. I saw my mother cry for days and noticed how terrified she was when the phone rang. We didn’t know when my father