Christmas! One of my favorite holidays… ruined … 3 years ago by pain. That Christmas changed my life.
Slam! Her hand slammed against the car window right next to my face. My heart beat with nervousness; it raced faster then a racing horse on a race track. I could feel the warmness of my tears slide down my face. I got into the backseat of the car. She was in the passenger’s seat and my grandpa was in the diver’s seat. As we left my drive way, I saw dark brown leaves fall to the ground. My grandpa was trying to shut my mother up so that she could actually listen to me for once. I had said to her “Mom why can’t I live with dad? I think I would be better off living with him.” Her reply back was “You’re not going anywhere! I’ll have to be six feet underground before you live with him!” Her screaming and chaotic rage pierced into my heart like a sword getting stab into a gladiator. She opened the car door while my grandpa was driving down the Mount Baker highway, one of the most busiest and unsafe highways. I’m thinking to myself (Great! My mom is trying to jump out! What the hell is she thinking?) So there was no point, I finally gave up fighting with her and tried convincing her to shut the door. Finally she calm down and shut the door. I was so relieved! I started to breathe a little bit more easier… But that was not the worst part.
Finally arriving at our destination at my Aunt Leah’s apartments. Right as we got ready to get out of the car …Boom! She started to drop to the ground. My mind confused and upset I listen to when he said to go get help. Panicking, I raced up the three stories stairs. My legs felt like I was slower then jello. At the top I run in and everybody looks at me with worried eyes and asked “Tarran what’s wrong? What happened?” “Just call 911 for my mom!” I said. The ambulance finally came after it felt like hours, to tell me that my mom was fine but… she had an overdose. That day I knew I couldn’t live with my mom anymore. I had the blankets too far over my face to realize that I was starting to down the wrong path and follow into my mother’s foot steps.
A couple days later we went to court, I was terrified because it was my first time being in the court house and I was also afraid that the judge might not let me go live with my dad. In the court room my mom was being such a drama queen, putting on a act for the judge. With the whole crying bit and acting like nothing ever happened.
She didn’t make me feel sorry for her at all. Actually I was angry and upset with her. When the judge made his decision and said that I’m no longer in my mom’s custody and into my dad’s, I felt like rubbing it in her face by saying “Ha! I told you that I was going to go live with dad.”

But a part of me realized that I was going to miss a lot of things. Like being in my childhood home, helping my grandpa in his garage, and playing with my dogs. And a big was I was going to miss my mom and all the good times we had together, like her teaching me how to make her delicious chicken pasta, us watching movies on the couch, and me and her singing duets together. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate my mom, I love her very much. I’m sad that she put me through all this pain that you don’t even know about.

But I guess it was for the best. I was happy again , living with my dad has been one of my best choices I had made. I was free. I was free from being in my bedroom alone by myself. I was free from getting drag from house to house and getting left somewhere. I was free from all the stealing and lying. And finally, I was free from all the pain that burned inside me. I was free!