One single word can ruin a family in a blink of an eye. That word is divorce, a simple two syllable word. This one word can make your dreams of sitting on the couch watching TV laughing at whatever stupid show is on, to deciding who has who what weekend or week day. This word not only tore my family apart but also revealed its secrets.

“Your mom and I have some news that’s going to change some things around here.” My dad told me and my brother while we were sitting in the living room one afternoon. The first thing that came to mind is that they are having another baby. What else should I expect? They haven’t been fighting at all lately; maybe this meant their fighting was done for a while. “We’re not having a baby,” my dad says at first. I stare blankly at him dreading what he was going to say next but my ears only singled in on that one word. “Your mom and I are getting a divorce.” My dad finally says. It was as if my body went numb. I didn’t feel sad or happy just a weird tingling feeling. After that I couldn’t look at my dad, I didn’t look at him till later that night. He made me come with him to get ice cream for everyone and that conversation in the car was the best attempt he’s ever had with trying to communicate with me. “This isn’t you fault you know, me and mom just weren’t happy together,” My dad says to me in the most empathic voice he could. “This doesn’t mean you won’t see me anymore, I’ll just be living with a friend in La Porte.” He acts as though he’d been at home for me to see him in the first place. He’s never home and when he was it was at midnight till 1:30 pm. So I’d be lucky if he got sick or I got sick and one of us had to stay home to be able to see him for more than five minutes and those five minutes not be him yelling at my mom. I loved them both so I could never take sides for that reason and also because I never knew what they were fighting about but I knew it was bad. Sometimes my dad would leave and not come home till the next morning. I always wondered where he went those nights. I still till this day don’t know where he went. “Daddy…” I said to him. “Yes baby girl?” “I love you, please don’t do this.” He took that in for second and then said “ Baby we do still love each other but all this fighting and everything isn’t good for you and your brother to be around.” As much as I hated it, he was right. I’ll never forget that night my brother came in my room at midnight crying. My little 4 year old brother at the time balling his eyes out. I asked him what was wrong and he said “Mommy and daddy are screaming at each other, I’m scared.” “Its ok buddy just come sleep in my bed tonight.” I told him trying to give him some kind of comfort. He cried himself to sleep that night in my arms and I knew that night that I had to grow up and protect him. Still a kid myself I have to grow up and protect him, I’m his big sister that’s what I’m supposed to do. So as he laid there sleeping I whispered to him “Don’t worry buddy I have you, I won’t let anyone hurt you. I love you buddy, sleep tight.”

We get home with the ice cream but me and my brother are too upset to eat, so ours just sits there and melts. The next couple of weeks I kept to myself. Mom and dad still slept in the same bed which to me was weird but it didn’t matter what I thought. My dad had told us he was moving out in about three months but it ended up being only 2 weeks. We didn’t see him a whole lot in the first place but those first couple of months the only way I knew he wasn’t dead was getting a text from him every other week. As much as I didn’t want to admit it I missed my dad more then you could think but at the same time I wish he’d never came back to me and my mom after I was born. It wasn’t till I was two that they got married. Maybe it would’ve been better they never got back together and I only saw him on the weekends like I do now. It’s very contradicting though because if he wouldn’t of came back I wouldn’t have my brother but then again if my brother wasn’t born I wouldn’t of had that night that broke my heart because I had to protect him from his own mom and dad. Don’t get me wrong I love him with all my heart but I really wish that night never would’ve happened. That night not only did my heart break but I had to be his mom, me a little eight year old, had to grow up and raise her little brother. Then after so long I was done being mommy and wanted to end it all. That’s when the cutting started. At first it was just when I was really upset but then it was an everyday thing because I couldn’t feel anything anymore. My body was still numb from that day and I only wanted so bad to feel anything even if that feeling was pain and pain only. I was just going through the motions for a while because I really didn’t remember how to live anymore. Isn’t it sad how one simple two syllable word can change a person forever?