My whole life has been difficult. My parents are divorced. My mom remarried right after the divorce was done, to an evil man and had my baby sister who I can't see. Two of my four grandparents have died, and countless pets have died too. Some people might think that that's nothing, but there is more to the story, the story of Me.

In 2001, it started. The fighting. Yelling and screaming were all that could be heard. No one would get hurt because my dad wasn't one of those people that let his temper explode. Then came Kevin. He put a wedge in and split our family into two even more. My mom wanted a divorce because she was "in love" with Kevin and she said that my dad was "choking her." My dad wanted to work it out and fix it, but my mom won and before we knew it she was getting married again to Kevin. He seemed kind at first but my sister Nicole and I later found out that he wasn't. When he got angry you wanted to run to the other side of the world and never come back, but that just made him even madder, and he got angry often.

Kevin scares my sister more than he scares me because one time he took my sister by the hair and slammed her face into the side of our "house" which was really a trailer home. She wasn't hurt to badly but talking to him and even being near him scared both of us, because if he got mad at her like that, it wouldn't be long before he would do the same to me. We were scared. Even his own kids were afraid of him. Kevin's son Court and his daughter Alex. Court doesn't go to see Kevin anymore because he did the same thing to him as he did to Nicole. Because my little sister Kylie is only my half sister, she is still living with my mom and Kevin. A few years ago when I was in leaving 4th grade and going to 5th, I was still living with my mom. We were still living on our mountain, but not in the trailer anymore. We were living in tents for 4 months. School had just started and it was starting to get colder at night. My sister told my dad this and he had had enough. The next weekend he had us, but when it came to the time he had to bring us back, he didn't. My Aunt Diane came up from Pennsylvania to help my dad "run" from the law because my mom technically had custody of us and by my dad not bringing us back, he "kidnapped" us. It was a long week, but in the end it worked out enough for my dad to enroll me back into school, at Alfred Elementary.

A week later my mom came to see and talk to me about what had happened. I was in computer class when my Guidance Counselor came into the room to get me. She asked me if I wanted to see my mom and I didn't know what would happen. Would she be mad at me? Would she yell? I couldn't tell, but she was still my mom and I did want to see her, so I did. We talked about the past week, we talked about what might come, and then she asked me.

"Do you want to go to lunch so we can talk more?"

That caught me off guard. She knew I loved school and would never leave in the middle of the day. When I gave her my answer of "no school is too important today for me to leave, maybe I can talk to dad to see when would be a better time" she lost it. She kept trying to force me to come with words but I stayed strong. When I was about to go back to class she leaped across the table and grabbed my wrists. I stood up and tried to pull my arm free but she wouldn't let go. She started to try to drag me out but I was tugging back in the opposite direction, on the ground. In an attempt to get away I dropped to the ground so it was harder for her to drag me. I remember that my guidance counselor was telling my mother to look at my face. To see that she was scaring me, hurting me, and making me cry, and at the same time I was looking up at her screaming "your hurting my wrist!" After a few minutes of struggling she finally lost her grip and I was escorted down stairs to the principles office where my dad had been called and was almost there. The school had issued a lock down so all the doors were locked. When he got there he burst through the doors (after they had been unlocked) and grabbed my in his arms. We were both crying. My mother had to be escorted out of the school by the police.

The next day was weird. The police were in the main office asking questions about what happened. Different people were telling their different sides of the story, the Secretary and the Principle gave theirs. After I gave the police my statement I went back to class. All day everyone kept talking about the "15 minute" lock down that happened yesterday, and all day I had to listen to it and not be able to tell anyone what happened. It was the only time I would have wished to invisible. Everyone kept asking me were I went during and what happened to my wrists. I had two very visible bruises, one just a little darker than the other on both wrists. They were there for like a week and a half. Eventually I was able to tell my friends about what was happened. About the time when my bruises went away the school installed a security system. To get into Alfred you have type a code into the key pad door or the secretary has to buzz you in, all thanks to my mother.

My mom isn't very nice anymore. The mother I used to know and love doesn't exist. She doesn't care about me like she used to and to tell you the truth, I don't care to talk to her. The last time I talked to her I was at my aunt's house in my cousin's room talking to her on the phone. Her and I got into a fight about why she didn't let Kylie come down to see her family and most of all her big sister. I ended up yelling so loud that my aunt heard and came up into the room to listen and comfort me when it was over, also she brought me some ice cream because everyone else was eating some downstairs while watching a movie. My mom told me that I deserved to cry and that I was a stupid brat that lied to everyone just to get what I wanted, and then she said what I don't like to hear from anyone, she said that my dad, my sisters, my whole family were liars. You can insult me, but you don't insult my family, so I exploded into defense mode. "How dare you blame this on me, you brought this upon yourself."
The last thing she said to me was, "You are not the same little girl that used to hold my hand walking across the parking lot, I'm so disappointed in you."
I had had enough, "You know what MOM? The feeling's mutual." "Click"

I hung up on her and my aunt came over and hugged me. She told me that she was proud of me for getting it off my chest. Later, she told me, that she would talk to my dad and let him know what happened. He didn't like it but he said that he was proud of me too.

Months later and I still haven't talked to her and I don't plan on talking to her anytime soon. I learned to stick with what I believe in and be strong through the rough.