It was frigid on that dark winters night. The blank stare of homework was in my eyes. As my brothers came in, she called us all together. Not noticing the mood I waltzed without a care. It was when I sat down that I became aware. "It's over, we're done" were the words rolling from her tongue. "He's filed for divorce. It's nothing you've done."
27 years, wasn't that long enough? To sit down together and work on what's rough? Not this time. This was the end. It was certainly a start to a different life.
Now, I feel homeless, staying at his house then hers. Moving my school back and fourth is getting absurd.
I vow to myself when I'm old and have a family, I'll never tear them apart, I stick it out till the end. Because I know what the children go through. The familiar pain. I'll never let them feel what I did.
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