I could not speak. I sat without moving a step or thinking a thought, a million questions running through my mind that could not escape. Time slowed down but I was still active, I sat crying and screaming, why! Why! “What did I say, what did I do?” in a loud burst I exclaimed “Mother why did you have to go?”

Three and a half weeks before the incident my mom and I got into a huge fight. I got suspended for the third time. I was smoking pot on school campus and when I came home something was different. My mom didn’t talk to me at all; she turned to me and said with a calm face, “I am very disappointed in you.” We didn’t talk for about a week, which was normal since we didn’t talk much anyway. I shut her out completely for three weeks up until four days ago. We small talked every once in a while but no memorable conversations. I tried to ignore my family and so I went to school.
That day I got drunk with my only friend named Jazz. We wobbled our way to science and sat down. Almost immediately Mrs. Shaw sternly asked, “Mila, could you follow me outside?” I froze but then slowly step-by-step I marched outside and that was the day I got expelled from Chosa Prep High School.
Going home I didn’t care about what my family would think or how it would affect my future, I just wanted a joint. I acted normal in front of my family but I stole money from them before sneaking out every night for four days straight.
That Friday I got a phone call from my sister, Carla. She sounded distraught and out of place. “Mila she died, a drunk driver came out of no where and she was rounding the corner to get home when… when… when…” Her words hit me like a knife, I felt as if I had been stabbed in the heart and the knife just kept digging deeper.
Her funeral was the following weekend and I almost didn’t go. I was dressed up and ready to go when I found a picture of us when I was four and I couldn’t hold myself together so I ran. I ran so far that I made it to the grocery store about three miles down the road. My body ached but my heart was so heavy that I couldn’t feel the physical pain in my muscles. My dad found me there around an hour later and I thought the funeral had ended but my dad said he had been looking for me and they were all waiting at the cemetery. I then told my dad the truth, “Dad, I don’t think mom would want me there, I was only trouble for her and I never showed her how much I loved and needed her.” He quickly responded with the most honest look in his eyes, “Mila, she had unconditional love for you and the only way her funeral will be right is if you are there.” It was hard to believe at the moment but I went anyway. I didn’t tear up but I balled. My eyes felt like hot balls of fire and I felt as if I was underwater only occasionally coming up for a breath of air. I cried so hard I almost had an anxiety attack. I cried on the way there, while we were there, and on the way home. I didn’t sleep that night instead I stayed up in denial.
I stopped eating, drinking, smoking, and sleeping. I sat at home alone and cried for weeks. All I wanted to do was be alone so that’s what I did. I didn’t speak to dad or Carla and I just stayed in bed all day in denial. My mom could not have died. She didn’t.
I then went into a state of anger. I broke almost everything in my room including windows, books, paintings, and I ripped the heads off of every stuffed animal in sight. The anger I felt almost changed me into a new person, it was running through my veins and everything made me angry. One day Carla came in and asked if I was okay, I responded rudely, “Carla mom died do you think I’m okay? Are you stupid? Because I am never going to see her again so no I am not okay so just get out of my damn room!”
The worst stage of my grief was stage three. I began to think back to the night she died and I realized something horrible. She was getting me tissues from the drug store and on her way home she died. TISSUES! I didn’t even need tissues, I told her I did so that she would just leave the house for a while. It was my fault my mom died and I wanted to die because of it. Why couldn’t I just be a normal kid and show my love to my parents? If I could then she would still be here. I felt as though I murdered my mom and I couldn’t handle it.
I went into a state of depression for two months straight. I lost fifteen pounds and felt like my life was in slow motion. The only thing I did those months were eating occasionally, sleeping with nightmares about that night, and sitting alone just thinking. I thought about my mom for countless hours and after I thought about myself. I realized how badly I messed up my life. Life is precious and I wasn’t enjoying it at all or making the people around me enjoy it. I loved my family so much but hadn’t shown it in the last five years. So finally I accepted it. I accepted the fact that mom was dead and that my life was a mess up until that point. I loved my mom and I never got to show her in actions but I knew she felt my love and knew I loved her. I got past all my anger and denial and finally saw the light of the situation. I needed to turn my life around because life is precious and can be cut short at any moment.
One morning my dad came in and told me some good news, “Honey, your staring school today at Raymond High.” At first I wasn’t sure how I felt until I realized I needed to start living my life because mom would have wanted me to. I went to my first day and everyone stared. I was the new girl who got expelled then lost her mom. I had no friends of course and wanted to just focus on school. A random boy walked up to me with blood shot eyes and handed me a joint. “It will ease your pain” as his high friend’s laughed in the corner. After I quickly denied the offer I remembered something. I remembered my mom applying ointment to my cut up knees saying, “It will ease the pain Mila! Sit still!” I realized my pain was on the inside and I needed to talk out some of the emotions I was feeling the past couple months.
I was on my way to therapy just like any other Tuesday but this time I went sober. I talked to my therapist, and I spoke the truth. After going home I made dinner for me and Carla. We talked about mom for the first time and we smiled. We smiled so much we laughed which soon led to a happy cry. Dad walked in with a surprised look on his face but he joined right in. After a couple minutes he pulled out a picture album. The pictures reminded me of who she was and how happy she seemed to be. I was such a nuisance for her. I drank at age fourteen and shut my whole family out since I was twelve. I stole from them and lied almost daily, but I was ready to change.
Junior year was an enormous change for the better. I cut my hair, got all the black dye out, took some summer classes, and made three best friends. I took care of my dad and Carla everyday and we had family dinners nightly. My friends kept me on track, even when I was ready to explode. At school I got a whole new schedule with the hardest classes I had ever taken. I knew getting my life back together would be hard, but there were so many things to do, it felt impossible.
Junior year I worked my butt off everyday and it paid off. At the end of the year my grades went from a 2.1 (sophomore year) to a 3.9 (junior year). I was so proud but the only one I wanted to share it with was my mom. I talked to all my teachers when there was a problem and about college apps. I never thought I would want to or have the grades to go to college but it was an obstacle I was ready to take on. I then realized how good I was at math. I never tried in past years but this year I did and I got moved up to an honors class. My math teacher sent in my scores to some colleges and they all responded promptly with interest in me. They were interested in me! That day I was genuinely happy for the first time in months. I ran home to tell my family and we had a feast. That was the night I decided I wanted to get into Cal Poly and nothing could stop me.
College was definitely the right idea for my life at the moment. I filled all of my free time doing things that would beef up my application. I joined the math club, did multiple community service hours, and worked day and night on essays. I wrote some pretty kick-ass essays about how my life was such a mess until I finally opened my eyes and did a 360. I reflected on my life now and realized I needed to enjoy it a little more so one night I went to a party with two of my friends.
We went in skin-tight dresses with heels and full jewelry. I probably met fifty new faces and by the end of the night I was exhausted. “Guys I’m going to head out for the night.” I told my friends, as they fake laughed with two hot boys. On my walk home I took off my heals, put on a huge jacket, and took off my dress under. I put my hair up in a bun and wiped most of my make-up off, which I later realized was a bad thing to do because when I was fifteen minutes from home I men a boy.
“Watch out!” is all I heard before a speeding bike hit me so hard that I hit the ground and became unconscious. Next I woke up who knows how much later on the ground under a tree in the arms of a stranger, a very cute stranger.
“Hi, my name is Jackson and I have been rehearsing something to say when you woke up but that’s the best I came up with.” I chuckled and just admired his good looks. I realized where I was and in an instant I was up with a throbbing headache.
“Where am I? Who are you? What time is it?” I asked with a huge amount of question in my voice.
“Don’t worry were at the park near your house, I found your address in your wallet. I accidently hit you with my bike on my way to a party so I took you here while you recovered. Oh and its almost one in the morning.”
“One a.m.! I need to get home now. Thank you for everything, Bye!”
“Wait, when will I see you again?”
“Good bye!”

I ran home so fast I couldn’t keep up with my legs so I fell multiple times. Right as I got in I apologized to my dad and he assured me it was okay and asked,
“How was it? You haven’t been out in a while.”
“The party was okay, but it wasn’t really my scene. I was walking home and I met a boy.” I slyly added.
My dad responded promptly with an anxious voice, “A boy? Who? Where is he now? Is that who you were with?
“Yes dad but not like you think, he hit me on his bike and I fell unconscious so he waited for me to wake up and I ran home.”
“Are you going to see this boy again?” My dad asked with a concerned tone.
“I don’t know but I’m going to go to bed, goodnight daddy.” I said as I yawned.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him, for three days straight he took over my brain. Everywhere I went I hoped he would somehow be there like a fairytale but when a couple weeks went by I gave up. I was at dinner with my friend when I took out my wallet to pay and I found something. Call me:) (695)-567-0286. I scrunched my face in and made a smileso big it covered my whole face. My friend looked down and thanked god that I wouldn’t talk about how I needed to find him anymore. When I got home I called and after one ring he answered.
“Is this Jackson?”
“Yes, MILA!” he screamed.
“Hi, I found your note in my wallet, so, umm...”
“Can we meet Mila? I haven’t gotten you out of my head since that day.”
“Sure, I guess just text me” I said trying to not sound too eager.

The next couple weeks we met up almost everyday and even though we went to different schools we still had a million things to talk about. I was still on my mission to get into Cal Poly so I told him about it and he told me some of the greatest news, he was going to try to get into Cuesta, which was coincidentally five minutes from Cal Poly. We were a couple on a mission and I loved it.

The end of senior year was a rollercoaster of emotions and I was not good with many of them. I had the stress of getting into college, the sadness of saying goodbye to my best friends and family, my excitement to get out of this town, multiple hours of homework, and my love for Jackson. I needed to relax so I talked to my dad. He always knew what to do and we had hour-long conversations that would lift pounds off of my chest. After one of these talks I felt like a new women. I was ready for whatever happened and I just kept thinking, “Everything happens for a reason.”

This was it. The letter arrived with the Cal Poly stamp and the school colors around my name and address. Half of me wanted to rip it open and the other half wanted to chuck it out the window and never see it again. This is what the last two years of my life led up to. This would affect my relationship, family, and my future. No one was home so I decided to wait until Carla and dad got home but after ten minutes I couldn’t do it. I ripped off the sticker and read like a mad woman. My hands went stiff, my knees locked, my mouth dropped, and I swear my heart skipped a beat. “HOLY CRAP.” I got in.

The next month of my life flashed by in a blink of an eye. My life was falling into place. Dad and Carla helped me with all my college packing, I had a goodbye party with all my friends and family, and best of all Jackson got into Cuesta. I realized my mom was watching over me everyday and once in a while I would see little signs of her. From that day on I lived life with confidence, no regrets, and I lived it to the fullest. My only regret to this day is that it took my moms death for me to wake up. I feel as though I am part of a bigger plan, my mom is the mastermind and my family members and I are the guinea pigs. We have become so much closer because of the death of our mom and I think she knew that this would happen. Maybe I’m crazy but I think she gave her life so we could have a family that loves and cares for one another. I think about her everyday and she will always be my hero. She was silenced yet it was the loudest wake up call I had ever had. She brought me life in her death and for that I will love her eternally.