Money

Money

When I was younger we had some money, then they split, no one was happy, and no one had money. I had to live with her because the courts said so. They were stupid. Child support was sent every week or so. He never got behind. He cared. He cared more for us then her cared for himself, and always said things will get better. He was my night light in my bed room when I was in fourth grade and scared. I always missed him. My sister and I saw some of the child support go to food for us, but most of it she spent on herself, she was selfish, she was mean, and she liked to pretend like she was the stars, perfect in every way, She never got off the phone, I think that she just liked to hear herself talk. Even thought the money should have been spent on other things it was spent on her tanning, her nails, her clothes, and worst of all her cigarettes. She was like a Monster, a green money monster. Green as envy. Green for money she wanted, but didn’t have. She refused to get a job, and if she did get one she would, quit, get fired or give up because it was work. She is a seagull, always after good food. Well she was always after a man with money. She would date them, get their money, and dump them. She tried to quit smoking once, but it didn’t work. My whole life with her didn’t work. Ever. We were like pieces of a clock if one piece isn’t there the clock won’t work.

East Clinton

Nothing special. It was old, and you could tell. Mostly because the chipping paint that reminded me of and old mans wrinkly skin, the shingles that resembled loss of hair. I loved it none the less. It was home. Then. It had blue shutters that I always liked to compare to my eyes, and a warm, welcome interior that had a long colorful history behind its walls. Everything that has ever happened to me happened there. I lived there. We all lived there. After the divorce a man came, I knew that I didn’t like him and never would. My whole life was there but the color drained. He said that many, many things needed to be done to our Home, and everything was wrong.

It started slowly. First small things went missing or being taken out like when socks go missing and you blame it on your dryer. Then an atomic bomb hit the place. Well that’s what it looked like, and everything was being ripped, torn out or destroyed. The white crooked walls, our oak floors, cabinets, sinks everything. Then it moved to the out side. They stripped away the siding, along with its pride. I left that house. So did they. I guess they got sick of the smell. The noise. The continuous projects. But mostly how much money we didn’t have, that they put into it. It’s unfinished, and now unloved. I think what started out as some small fixing showed how much the family needed it more then the house. I haven’t been there in over a year, I know that house is empty like a box of cereal when you wanted the last bowl. Sometimes families tear easy like that, and we were weak.

Number 22

The taste of salty and bitter blood rushed into my mouth, and all around my taste buds. The blood gushed out of my mouth and on the warm cement underneath my feet. About four yards away there is the eight foot deep crystal clear pool, and a trail of scarlet red blood that starts at the pool, and ends in a little puddle at my feet. My Aunt Debbie Asked “what happened” with a pale, and terror stricken face
I actually had to think about it for a second, because I was feeling light headed and feeble. It all started with us stopping to stay the night at Mackinac city, we (my sister Jessica, my grandma, grandpa, and me) ran into my cousin Matt, and his parents at a stop sign where the long line of hotels started in Mackinac City. My Aunt Debbie and, Uncle Larry are Matt’s parents, Matt and I were both thirteen, and my sister was about fifteen.
Matt and I are like two peas in a pod when we get together. Matt is three inches shorter than me, and has about half the waist size too.
My sister and I went with matt and his parents back to their hotel to swim while my grandparents rented our hotel rooms. I was geared up to swim, so we threw on our bathing suits as fast as we possibly could, and ran like the wind into the smoldering hot room with the pool. As soon as I walked in the pool room the stench of chlorine instantly hit my nose. Matt and I made a be-line for the pool only a few yards away pushing and shoving the whole time. We reached the pool, and I was just about ready to dive in, and Matt gave me a little push. It was no big deal for those few seconds when I was in the air levitating about the pool. When I splashed into the cool blue water head first and shot straight across the pool like a torpedo that had just been launched from a submarine almost instantly my face hit the silver steel pool ladder.
After that I remember my sister in the pool next to me, and I saw that she had blood on her face, so I went to tell her and blood sort of spilled out of my mouth. Then she told me that I had a tooth missing on my bottom jaw, my k-9 tooth. I felt numb every where. We ran back up to their hotel room and called my grandparents and told them about it, and when they arrived, it was like playing the 100 questions game. It was not a big deal to me, but on the way home the next morning I called my parents about it. They didn't believe me so I started to cry.
I remember that Shanna, my step- mom said “Quit lying,” and “Did your grandpa put you up to this?”
I handed my grandpa the phone and I heard him say “No, I am not joking, this really did happen. No she’s not hurt bad, she didn’t even cry.” My grandpa put me back on the phone, and I told them everything that happened.
When we got home I went to a dental surgeon, and he took x-rays. When he got them back and looked at them he said, “Wow!” “You knocked that tooth clean out of your head, root and all. You must have hit that ladder tremendously hard because that K-9 has the deepest root in your mouth..”
We never found my tooth in the pool, but I guess Matt, and Jessica looked for it the whole time I was trying to take care of the bleeding. I went home from Mackinac unhappy, and minus one of my pearly whites.

Where I'M From

Apprentice Piece

I am from broken homes,

broken like thin piece of glass

dropped from the top of the Empire State building.

I am from quarrels, fights, and grudges.

I am from the smell cigarettes

that will never come out of me clothing.

From the smell of secrecy, and secrets.

Secrets that are whispered in every ear,

but mine.

I am from a "history of violence."

Violence that been in my life two long years,

I am from living off of food stamps, and child support,

then moving to a place parallel the heaven.

If you talked to a close relative,

they could easily tell you where I am from,

I am from hate, and despair

from a mother that would never care