May the dreams of your past be the reality of your future. -Unknown
It was a wet, dark morning, I woke up from a dream of playing with my friends. Last night was pretty normal for me, staying outside until 2 or 3 in the morning, waking up just to go play some more. I always have to pee in the morning. So I get up out of my bed covered with a Powerpuff girl blanket and work my way past the toys and clothes all over the floor. I open my door and walk past my mom’s room. Is that another stupid grandpa I have to call daddy? I sit down on the brown toilet that is the color of crust on a burnt pizza. I pee and don’t wipe, because there is no toilet paper. I always wonder what grown people mean when they say, “High Jean.”
I yell as I run out of the door to go outside and play, “Im going to play.” It’s Saturday because I didn’t have school today. Or maybe it’s a holiday. My friends are all outside. I wonder what we will do today. Catch bees, play hide-and-go-seek or race each other. I always win the races. As soon as I beat them all, I run up the stairs of our apartment building. The outside walls are falling apart and there is dark dirt piling up all over the bottom of the walls. The stairs have blue rails with rocky stairs. On my way up the stairs I wish about all the things I would love to eat. I wished I had plates of pancakes stacked like paper on my teacher’s desk. I know there is nothing, but I love wishing.
I walk in to see a cop talking to my mom. They asked me to get the keys to the house. I reached in my mom’s coat pocket and grabbed a crack pipe instead. They took her - the meth addicted woman - to jail for stealing, and I went to go live with my grandparents because of one, small, silver pipe. My grandparents said, “ Who do you want to live with?” I said “ My mom.” “That’s not an option,” is all they said.
Written from personal experience for an assignment in my English class.
