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My Life in a Sippet
My life was changed forever at the age of seven. I sat in front of my parents on their bed, waiting, watching, knowing something was going to happen. After a few minutes they told my sisters and me that they were going to get a divorce. Being as young as I was I didn’t fully understand what they meant. So I cried. On seeing me cry my four-year-old sister started to cry. My two-year-old sister looks on like ‘what’s going on?’ I understood more than my sisters but not by much. All I did know was it wasn’t a good thing. A few days later they let us know that they ‘talked’ it out. Other words my dad convinced my mom to try again.
Skip ahead a few years. I’m about twelve years old now and was finally told what a divorce means. It was a good thing too because they once again told us they were getting a divorce. The difference this time was they meant it. I thought my world had ended. My parents not together anymore? What was going to happen? Well to find out not much happened. Within the few years after the divorce I grew up quickly.
My mom dated then remarried to my step-dad, Dave. It was a very good thing for the family. My dad made me realise a lot of stuff in my life. He also was the one who made me realise I was fed up. Fed up with the way I was being treated by my biological (Chris). About fourteen years old I realised how much Chris lied to us kids. How many times he chose to sit lazily in his chair then spend time with us. He lied to us about our mother, saying she didn’t take care of us. That she wasn’t a good mother to us. Trying to make us believe she was a bad person. That she wasn’t a good mother. I got tired of it. So I stopped going to his house every other weekend. A few weeks after that I asked him if I could have my stuff. He told me no.
Chris told me “My stuff was going to stay there in case I came back.”
I told him “I wasn’t going back and if I couldn’t have my stuff to at least split it between my two sisters.”
He again told me no, saying it was mine. Chris and I fought. Saying not exactly nice things to each other, but even then he was lying to me. Telling me about the past. Telling me it would change. Or just plain telling me I was wrong. By then my mom had to step in. So I went inside to cool off. I started talking with my dad about it and other things to distract myself. It worked. He made me laugh and forget about the argument.
That day made it final. For the last two and a half years I have not went to Chris’s house, and I won’t again. No Matter how bad someone asks me to. Thinking back from now I’m glad my mom and Chris got a divorce, because if they hadn’t I wouldn’t be where I am today. I wouldn’t have met the man who has been the real father in my life. People say a divorce is sad, especially for the kids involved. All I can say is I’m one out ten who say I’m glad they divorced, because it has made my life better. A lot better.
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