Shouting. That is all I’d hear when I come home from school. I sometimes went to the library just so that I could have a moment of peace and quietness. I would stay there until dinnertime at 6. Sometimes, my mom and dad would fight so much that they wouldn’t even sit at the same table. My mom would sometimes take me out to eat at a restaurant while my dad would make food himself. Sometimes I’d be responsible for getting food because my parents were busy fighting. They would always apologize to me and say that it wouldn’t happen again. But that apology has been going on for years now. The fighting has gotten worse. And so have my grades.

School had been difficult because my parents couldn’t help me. I was behind in all of my classes. I usually had to stay in during lunch while my teacher explained something that I still didn’t understand, even after hearing it in class. 

One day, I finally got the news I have been preparing myself for months. My parents were getting a divorce. They explained to me that they were trying to make it work and that I would be living with my mom most of the time now. I was devastated but I knew I couldn’t do anything about it. I knew how unhappy their marriage was, and I held onto the thought that this was for the best.