3 years after the divorce, my sister and I were walking home talking and laughing like any other day, until we saw the ambulance at our house. My sister grabbed me by the arm as we ran up the street and through the door where we found our mother being put onto a stretcher. I immediately broke into tears not knowing what would happen, luckily my little brother Jason wasn't home to see the scene. We were told to get in the back of the ambulance with our mother, and so we did. The whole ride there my sister held me telling me to stay strong and it was going to be okay. That day, May 7, was the day I lost my mother. She died, from heart and lung issues. I watched her die, and there was nothing I could do about it, which broke my heart even more.
About a week after her passing we got everything unpacked at my fathers house, who now had to take on 5 children, alone. So we are normally very, very short on money. The only reason we survive on what we have is from the help of family and dad's girlfriend, Kendra. She can be nice, but she has the shortest temper of anyone I have met, and always takes it out on us.
Life is rough, not saying I have it the worse but I have it hard. Everything goes wrong. Nothing ever goes right.
