“Chris, this house is a mess!” my dad exclaimed.
“Joe, not now,” my mom said trying to push it aside.
“Will it ever get done?”
“Yea, okay, I’m sure.”
“Whatever, you’re such a jerk.” “Jerk” became a word that was used in most of the conversations they had. Doing family activities became more of a chore than an activity, it wasn’t enjoyable anymore. Anything we did turned into a fight between the two of them. By the time ninth grade came around, they were separated within the same house. My mom was in her bedroom and my dad had moved into the apartment in the basement. This eventually became very hard for my sister and I. If we wanted or needed something and one of them said to ask the other, we ended up taking laps by running up and down the stairs to deliver each other’s messages. Nothing was ever taken the right way and my parents always ended up fighting even more. Therefore, I realized I needed to ask for less. I soon learned they weren’t reliable anymore and I needed to grow up quickly. I began making my own meals, using my own money for necessities, and finding rides when I needed them. My parents weren’t comfortable with me driving around with friends they didn’t know, but they understood that if they weren’t around