This is a story in all English. Enjoy! Prologue It was a cold day in Chicago in December. I was only 8 when my mom called me into the kitchen to tell me the big news. I had no idea what the subject was or what was going to happen. I was only 8. I was drawing a perfect family when she called me. A family where no one argued or left abruptly after an argument. A father who didn’t come home drunk at 2 in the morning smelling like lavender vanilla perfume, a scent that wasn’t my mother’s. A mother who never cried, or when she did, she did it quietly. And a brother who wasn’t high 18 hours out of the day. And an 8-year old who didn’t cry along with her mother for half the week and shared the same pain as her, too. An 8-year old who wished she had a different family every single day, or packed her backpack to run away several times. A family who smiled all the time, a mother who was happy, a father who was faithful, and a brother who was clean and sober. It was my dream to have something like that. My mother called me downstairs. I was short and thin, so it was hard for me to get down each tall step without almost falling and busting my head open. I scurried into the kitchen. My mother and father were sitting at the table with a few papers in front of them. I sat down across from my mother. I hated my father. He was a cheater, a liar, and a thief. He had hurt all of us. I stopped talking to him last year. He never even talked to me, except for asking me where my mom was, or the time of day. I just looked at my mother, now. She looked like she had been crying. My father spoke first. “Kid, we have something to tell you.” My dad called me kid because sometimes he’d forget my name, and this just became a nickname for everyone in my family. “Yeah?” I said. My mother sighed sadly. “Me and your father have been having some problems in our marriage. And it just became too much after a while. We’ve decided that we’re not gonna be together anymore.” she said. This was not a shock to me. I thought that they were not meant to be together anyway. My parents had my brother when they were 14. When, they got married at 22, they had me. They had to earn up the money to have a wedding. I saw some pictures of it. For some reason, it sickened me. In all the pictures I saw, my dad never smiled in any of them. I was a very smart child. I always outdid my classmates in everything. They were so jealous of me. That was the one thing I smiled at. Now, I just stared at my parents, and just shrugged. “Ok.” I said. They looked at me sadly. “You’re not upset?” my mom said. I had to show my mother that I was upset, even though I wasn’t really upset. She only saw me as a depressed 8-year old. “No, I mean, I am. Why?” I acted. My parents got what they wanted from me, as usual. “It’s just, we disagree on everything, and it’s gotten to be too hard for us to handle. We hope you understand.” she said. “Yeah, I guess.” I shrugged. My mother got up from her place and came around the table to me. She placed her hand on my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. “We hoped you would. You know we both love you, right?” she said. I wasn’t sure about my dad, but I knew my mom did. She was the only one who gave even a little crap about me. “Yeah, I know.” I said. She smiled a tired smile at me, then hugged me. My dad looked at her, then sighed. “Michelle, can I have a few minutes with Natalie?” he said. My mother looked at him for a while, then sighed, and left the room. My dad pulled a seat next to me. “Look, I just want you to know that this was your mother’s idea. I believe that I did nothing wrong. All the accusations got to be too much for me and…” “Liar!” I screamed. He looked at me, shocked. I stood up. “You cheated on mom, you were the one to start fights, it was all you!” I screamed. “Natalie, watch yourself.” my dad warned. “No! You’re not my dad. You were never my dad. My dad wouldn’t do crap like that to any woman, especially my mother. I’m done listening to you. We all are.” I said, then I ran out the room. I ran up the stairs to my bedroom that I shared with my brother. He slept on a water bed he paid for with crack. I slept on a bed my parents got at the thrift store. My brother was sleeping in his bed. I shook him awake. He sat up quickly, and stared at me wide eyed. He was on a high crash. It scared me when he looked at me like that. But I loved him. He was the only one who was ever really nice to me, who looked out for me. I always turned to him in my hour of need. Now, hot tears ran down my cheeks. He saw my tears and wrapped his arms around me. He never asked me what was wrong until I stopped crying. We just sat there, then I told him that our parents were finally getting a divorce. Then, we both cried. But with tears of joy.