I remember when I was a young child. Wallowing through the grass, free spirited, not caring what anybody thought of me. My parents both worked on a farm in Oklahoma, and my best friend was the boy nest door, Francis. We would TRY to ride the pigs, it usually resulted in injury. My ma said that I was the bravest girl in Oklahoma.
But then it all changed two years later. I was six years old. One night I woke up in the middle of the night to my parents screaming outside the door. I peeked out of my room and saw my father, with five suitcases and his truck running in the front lawn. I cried.
I am now fourteen I have tried to get over the fact. My dad lives in California with his new wife and children. I still live with my mom in Oklahoma. Somehow I am moving on, but I don't want this to happen to anyone else. A divorce is a powerful thing, especially for a teenager. I only visit my dad during the summer. He takes me to Disneyland, the beaches. But somehow I always wonder, "Why me?"