Kelsey begins. "My mom would always hit us. Ever since Kindergarten, if the bus dropped me off late from school- even a minute late- she would slap me. I tried telling her it wasn't my fault, but she wouldn't have it. After that, in first grade I started running home. The run was five miles and hilly all the way. I was exhausted when I got home, but my mom had a genius idea that I should start working as her personal slave. I would work until I couldn't lift my arms. I became weak, but if I didn't work, I wouldn't get food and I'd get slapped once more." She pauses.
"Go on." I say. "How could you live like this?"
"Ok." Kelsey sighs. "Meghan and I lived in the dark, damp basement. Secretly, instead of going to school, where I got teased about my bruises, I worked for people to earn money. I had to buy the food for Meghan and I because all mom gave us was bread. We never had enough money for clean clothes or toys. It was hard, but we grew used to it." She stops to wipe a single, shiny tear from her eye.
"How did Meghan damage her legs?" I feel tears coming to my eyes too. I try to hold them back.
"When Meghan was only one, my mom got very annoyed with her. She- she cried a lot. Probably because she wasn't getting the care she needed and deserved." Kelsey's eyes are wet now and more tears spill out. "I remember this day like yesterday." She whispered to herself. "My mom opened the basement door and threw her down. Her cries stopped. Mine didn't. I even had enough courage to punch my moms nose. She was so furious, she shoved me down the stairs as well. I tried my best not to land on Meghan, but I broke my arm. Mom never came to get Meghan or me. I think she wanted us dead. She didn't even know that we were alive. She didn't care. We lived on our own from there. When I was thirteen, last month, my mom brought her boyfriend over. He was a really nice guy. I heard him upstairs, so I screamed. He heard and came downstairs. When he saw Meghan with her paralyzed body and me with a crooked arm and bruises, he called the cops. That man saved my life."
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A/N
Sorry I haven't in forever, and sorry about the depressing chapter. It's a little different than the typical basketball stuff, sorry about that. I am dedicating this chapter to one of my best friends (I think you know who you are.) Keep staying strong girl, we love you! Anyways, thanks for reading! Please, vote comment and share!
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HARDER THAN IT LOOKS
RandomI am a girl. So what? Almost all of my friends are boys. Big deal. We are all friends, brought together by the game. My strength: ball handling. My weakness: I am small. Tall, but very skinny. Size really matters in this game. I am playing better th...
