Just a Very Bad Memory!



I have had a lot of bad things happen to me over the years. My friends have been there and seen most of them. This memory is one of many, but it is also the one that I will never forget, no matter how hard I try. It’s almost like a mixture of moving out of my house for the very first time and almost losing my family forever.
My parents and I have always had bad relationships. I felt like I couldn’t talk to them about anything without getting in trouble. It always seemed like everytime I would tell them something that I felt was important or that I needed advice on, I would be in trouble because they didn’t want me to do those “things.” Of course I never thought it was bad that I hung out with my friends, because we would never do anything bad, just sit and talk or joke around. I kept thinking, “I am 18 I should be able to go out,” but they thought otherwise. At this point I knew that they didn’t trust me at all, so I tried to earn their trust. I would clean the house. If I went somewhere with a friend I would be home earlier that they wanted me to be. And it didn’t work. By this time I had gotten a boyfriend who I had fallen completely in love with, after being with him for 3 months.
One day I was at home and my mother and I had gotten into an argument, I don’t remember what it was about since it’s been so long. Or at least it seemed like it to me. But it got to a point where I was about to snap! My head hurt so much, and I turned so red because I was really mad; my fists were all curled up ready to hit something. Then she walked in my room and started yelling at me again because my music was too loud. But when you’re as mad as I was, music just doesn’t seem loud enough. Because I wouldn’t turn down my music she went into my room and hit me. Of course it didn’t hurt me because I was so used to the pain already. It wasn’t the first time I had gotten in trouble. And I did get in trouble frequently.
Eventually, my dad got home. My mom was crying, I didn’t really understand why at the time, because she wasn’t the one getting in trouble, or the one who got hit. He knew that I was the reason for her crying. I still had my music up really loud because I didn’t want to hear anyone! He went to my room and kicked my door in. It scared me so much that I jumped off my bed. He went into my room and punched my stereo system, then unplugged it because he couldn’t turn it off. He turned to me with his eyes opened really wide; his face was really red, and just like mine his fists were curled up. He started screaming at me, he yelled that if I ever made my mom cry again he was going to do a lot worse to me. He started telling me that if I wanted I can move out. Then he said that if I was going to move out that I would end up being a hooker and some other bad stuff that I should not say. This made me freeze right where I was standing, I started thinking really hard as he stood there yelling at me. I knew that I was really into boys at the time but I wasn’t the type of person that was just going to sleep with every guy I meet. And that’s what he was trying to say I did. At the time I was only interested in kissing a guy. But of course he didn’t understand that, because he didn’t know me, my parents have never understood me anyways. I sat down on my bed and was crying, really thinking hard about all the stuff that I had done. And not one memory of hanging out with my friends ever had sex involved.
Later my parents took off to Sunnyside to go to Wal-Mart. I knew they would be gone for a while so I called one of my really close friends. I told her what had happened and I told her to go to my house. Then when I hung up with her I called my boyfriend and told him what was going on. He got mad that my dad had talked to me that way, and he told me that I needed to move out already, and that if I wanted I could go live with him. I took me a while to actually think about moving out, but when I did decide to I told him that I was going to move in with him. He was really happy about this, but I was really sad. I knew that I was leaving my little brother, and that’s all I could thing about. I had hung up the phone and started packing all of my stuff. Putting all of my clothes in boxes, bags and whatever else I could find, because I was in a hurry. This all had to be done before my parents go back. My friend pulled up to the house and walked in the door. She came into the house watching me getting all my stuff packed. She asked if I was ok because I was crying so much. I told her I was fine and that I was moving out, because I was tired of getting in trouble all of the time. She came over to me gave me a hug, wiped off the tears from my face, and told me that everything was going to be ok, and that she was going to be there for me no matter what.
On the drive to Sunnyside I called my mom and told her that I was moving out. I felt that I at least owed her that. We stopped at my cousin’s house on the way to my boyfriends, and I told her everything that happened, she looked at me and told me that I could stay there with her. But because she and I fight like sisters I chose not to stay there. Finally we took off to my boyfriend’s house. I got there and he came walking to the car, he opened the door and I looked at him with my eyes big and red watering up again. He pulled me out of the car and gave me a big hug. He then kissed my forehead and told me that everything was going to be ok, and that he would take care of me. That night we unpacked everything from my friend’s car and took it downstairs to what was now my new house and room.
The first night away from home was the worst. I felt like there wasn’t anyone there to protect me if someone broke into our house. I couldn’t sleep at all, I kept thinking that my dad was going to walk through the door and take me home. Then I started thinking about how it all happened so fast, and now they will never talk to me again. I felt like I was a big disappointment to them. The next morning came and I didn’t go to school because I thought they would go and try to take me home, and because I was still kind of mad at them I didn’t want to go. So I stayed home with my boyfriend and some of our friends came over, it made me feel a whole lot better and like I was wanted for the first time. They started boxing a little bit for entertainment, to get my mind off of the things that had happened. It worked, except at nights when I kept thinking about how my brother was doing, and what he was thinking about! But crying put me to sleep every time. Then I just got used to the idea of being there and the tears slowly disappeared.
After living there for seven months my boyfriend and I started fighting a lot. I had had a suspicion of him cheating on me with some friends that would go over to the house. It was an everyday thing because we all hung out together all of the time, but there just wasn’t something right going on, and I felt it. Of course he denied it every time but I just knew that he was lying. Every time I would go to school he would be with those girls, until I got there. Then they would leave home. This really started to get me pissed, and so I started bringing it up all of the time. I just wanted to know the truth so I wouldn’t waste my time with it anymore. Eventually he got tired of me asking, and he broke up with me. This crushed me because I loved him so much. After this happened I took a walk by the canal and started thinking, not really about what happened but about my little brother and how much I missed him and my mama. But before I called them I crashed out on the sofa for about three hours. It was four in the morning when I finally fell asleep.
The next night I called my mom and told her what happened. She told me that she didn’t know if she wanted to let me go home, because my dad was still mad and didn’t want to see me. She would call me back when she knew if I could go home. I sat by the phone waiting for it to ring, praying that they would let me go home. A few hours later the phone rang and it was my mom. She told me that if I wanted to come home I would have to go back to school, go straight home after school, I would have to go to family events with them, and that I was going to have to follow all of the rules they had for me. She told me if I agree to do all of these I could go home. I was so happy that she said those four words (I could go home) and I quickly agreed to do every single one.
Today my parents and I still have our moments, but we get along and they know everything that goes on in my life now, well almost everything. I did learn a few things while I was living with my ex boyfriend. I learned that I could never trust a guy again. I learned that you shouldn’t run away from my problems, and you should be honest all of the time. But the biggest thing that I learned from this whole experience was that no guy or argument is ever worth giving up your family for. I am really happy that my ex broke up with me, because if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have my family.