July 2005

“Grandma!” was the only thing I heard from my room.

I smiled softly as I slowly opened my eyes and remembered it was one of those typical mornings when my grandma would bring my family Tim Horton's coffee and dough-nuts. I got up off the bed, and stumbled towards my grey dresser. Picking up a brown, wooden brush, I firmly tugged the knots out of my chocolate locks. After doing so, I gently lifted my finger tips and actually had the strength to grab hold of the violet handles, and pull the drawer open. Fishing out a pink top with purple butterflies on it and matching pants, I asked myself why on earth would my grandma Cathy buy such a thing?

With a huge smile plastered on my face, I rushed down the stairs of my home. Though, I froze when I heard yelling. I tip-toed towards the living room, until my grandma rushed my siblings and I out the front door.


Outside, everyone sat around quietly. My grandma was trying to comfort my younger sisters, Samantha (age: 6) and Amanda (age: 8), from crying. My two oldest sisters, Catlin (age: 15), and Brittany (age: 13), both sat casually on the other side of the cement porch of the house, just exchanging looks. My brother Bradley (age: 12), sat right beside me on the steps. He was only two years older then me, making me ten at the time.

I can remember the screams and shouts of my parents inside the house. I gripped tightly onto my pants, my clenched fist turning white, and my nails digging into my palm. I always hated fighting. My siblings and I never fought. Ever. We just could never bring ourselves to it. The thought of being like our parents killed us. It's something we never wanted.

“I think mom is leaving, Stephanie..” Brad whispered, his pale blue eyes looking up at my green eyes that opened wide.

“Don't say that!” I shot back.

To be honest...I saw this coming. We all did. It was just one of those times when you can just sense it.

The front door flung right opened, and my mom came storming out. Her eyes swollen and red from crying. She was wrapped in a blanket. My grandma walked off and started her car, she waited in the front seat for my mom.

“Guys, don't worry. I'm just going to grandma's for a bit.” she said, her voice cracking each time she said a word, “Remain strong while I'm gone..”

I held my breath tightly. My throat slowly tightening together, and start to hurt, though, I still did not let oxygen enter my lungs.

After my mom hugged everyone tightly, and left, we all slowly looked at each other. Wondering how this was not only going to conflict with our lives, but with our relationship as siblings.