In My Heart

Chapter One

You know that feeling of peace you get when you're finally alone? The tension drops. The voices in your head get quiet and less violent. Suddenly, there's no one around you to impress. You don't have to explain yourself to people. Those kind of moments keep me sane at the end of the day. Most of all those moments keep me out of trouble.

I just got done with a twelve hour shift, thankfully its Saturday so I don't have to go to school. I get home, hoping that my mother isn't there so I don't have to listen to her bitch. The rent is late, but I'm only 16, there's laws that keep me from working too many hours. There is only so much I can do. I walk into the house and go straight upstairs, as quietly as possible. I don't think my mom is home. Thank god. 

I'm not perfect, and just like everyone else, I do things to ease the pain. I start to run a hot bath, and put my hair up in a bun. While the bathtub fills, I go back into my room to roll a joint. By the time I got back into the bathroom, the tub was full. I undress and enter into the hot water, and I instantly feel relaxed. I play some music and spark up the joint. It's the only thing that keeps me sane in this cruel world. The only difference between me and my other family, is I'm not doing to the numb the pain, I do it to release it, to let the day go and be able to start fresh tomorrow. 

I haven't had this much time alone in a long time. I wish I had more time like this. After about 15 minutes in the bath, I decide to get ready for bed considering I have another day of work tomorrow. As I walked out of the bathroom, I hear a door slam.  Great. Mom is home.  I can hear her yelling downstairs.

"How about you shut the fuck up!" she screams. 

She's not talking to me, and she's not talking on the phone. She's talking to the voices in her head. My mom suffers from drug induced schizophrenia. She has been on and off of meth, since she was sixteen. The schizophrenia has been happening for about 4 years now. I have kind of gotten used to it, but she is so unpredictable now. It scares me that one day I'm gonna get a call that she's dead, or in jail. I slip on my headphones and hope she doesn't bug me. 

I wake up 4 hours later to the sound of glass shattering. I jump out of bed, and rundown stairs. She threw a full beer can at the window. Here we go. 

"Mom, is everything okay?" I say quietly as she sobs on the floor. 

"Leave me alone! I don't need your judgement!" She screams. 

'Can I help you pick up the broken glass?" 

"You deserve to pick up you little bitch! You're the reason I broke it!" Her voice is stern. 

"How did I make you break it? I haven't done anything wrong!" I say annoyed. 

"I don't need to explain myself to you! CLEAN IT UP NOW!" 

With that she marched back up the stairs and slammed the door to her bedroom. I kneel to floor and start to gather the broken glass, at least the big pieces. For a second I just held a piece of broken glass, a starred at it. What if I just ended it, right here & now?  Nobody would care. The pain would be over. I drop the glass, and quickly push the thoughts away. Your family needs you, Kodi. Don't let them down. I stand and wipe the shame that streamed down my left cheek. Vulnerability is not an option. 

Most of my life I was raised by my grandmother, or as I call her, Nana. Back in the day they called her the "Hood Mother". She has raised many children in her life, most of them not even of her blood. Nana, is a big part of my life. She has taught me many lessons, and she is the only person on this planet that I trust 100%. Everything that I am, and everything that I hope to be, I owe to that woman. She did not raise a quitter.