A Little Bit Of Hope.

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I was three the first time I saw my dad get arrested for kicking someone's ass. I was laying on the couch, and the police kicked in the door. My father tried running from the police, tripped over a step and next thing I know was in the back of the cop car. My mom always told me that "he was only gone for a minute and he'll be back soon." I believed it for a while, I always had hope that maybe he would change as I got older. Two months later, he got out of jail. Not even a week later, he was arrested again. That's when my mom told me that she was done with him, then said she was pregnant with my little brother. I was excited but I knew at the age of three that she wasn't ready for another kid.

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