The screaming and hollering echoed through the windows, so loud that my grandmother next door could hear. She called me and questioned the disturbance and I had to release my anger to someone, so I decided to tell her what happened.

Not too long ago, I was hired to work at Hollister in Ridge Mall. The excitement of working for a company that was so popular thrilled me, that the thirty minute drive never crossed my mind. With trying to keep up my grades, balancing a job was difficult so I cut my hours down.

I always ask my mother’s permission before I make plans to go out, and like usual, she said that it was fine. The following Saturday, I woke up to a yellow gleaming sun peering through my window shades. I was ready to start my day and hang out with my friends, especially because I just received my check. Although it wasn’t much, I wanted to still enjoy my weekend. While I was getting ready, I heard a loud knock at my door, it was my mother. When she entered my room she had a certain attitude about her, kind of snotty. “Give me $40 and I’ll repay you in a few days” she demanded. I explained to her that she agreed to let me go out and that I was getting ready to leave. I also added the fact that my check was only $50 this week. In the matter of two seconds, my mother’s face turned from brown to red. It was not that often that me and my mother quarreled, nevertheless I could tell by the tension awakening the air.

The rant began. She went on hollering about how I’m selfish and how I’m unappreciative of what she does for me. Me and my mother have very similar personalities, from being stubborn, to getting mad easily and not liking authority. With that being the case, we clashed for hours. I began to holler back, only trying to defend my case yet not realizing the tone of my voice. My dad and siblings emerged from there room to see what the fuss was about. As soon as my dad got to us, my mother had already hit me. That made me furious. I began to throw stuff around my room, knocking down things to express my rage. But nothing helped. All at the same time my mother still tried to get to me, although my 300 lbs father strongly held her back. It was not too late after, when the obvious awaited to come. My mother kicked me out of the house. I predicted this to happen because it wasn’t the first time. She pushed me out the door to my grandmother’s house. “How could you do this to me? You were kicked out at 17 and now you’re kicking me out? I could get killed or anything and you don’t care!” I yelled. “Nope, nope and I don’t care either!” The words my mother told me felt like a sharp sword to the heart. It killed me inside to hear her say that. I furiously kept straight down 79th although knowing the dangers that happened at night. A 17 year old girl by herself, small and distressed, I was the perfect target for someone. Along the way, I had no idea where I was headed and what I was about to do. All I knew was that I didn’t want to be home, I wasn’t wanted there. My first thought was to stay out all night, hoping that something bad would happen to me just so my mother could feel horrible. I was harassed, and stopped down my path of danger. I decided to walk about 10 minutes to my best friend’s house. My phone wasn’t in my possession to call her; I just prayed that somebody was home, anybody. As I rang the doorbell, her mother’s voice spoke loudly across the intercom, “Kiara isn’t here” she said. “That’s okay” I responded. I could tell she heard the sadness in the tone of my voice, and opened the door with wide arms as I whimpered up the staircase. She asked me what was wrong and I explained every last detail to her, she was literally like my second mother. I came there to confide in my best friend, and ended up building a more sentimental relationship with my best friend’s mother. To cheer me up, she took me out to where Kiara and her sister were. We went out bowling and had dinner. Throughout the way my second families for 12 years were there when I needed them and when I felt like I had no one else to comfort me, they were there. When we arrived back to her house, I decided to spend the next two nights to relieve some stress that my mother had caused. I awoke to the loud music on my phone playing from my mother’s call. I answered and she said “Come outside, you’re coming home”.