Fighting

When I was a little girl my whole world was irrevocably changed. I was 10 years old and all I had ever known was taking care of my siblings after school. They were my world and in one night, everything changed. I was only a little girl when the police came and raided our home in the middle of the night because, as it turns out, my biological mother was doing drugs. She was arrested and my siblings and I were taken to a relatives. 

I remember the day I said my final goodbyes to them. It was the hardest day of my entire life. I was on the bus and I saw my grandmothers car parked out front of the place we were staying. I started panicking and crying because I knew it was time and I didn’t want to give them up. I got off the bus and when I walked through the door, my grandmother was immediately ready to go. So I walked to my little sister sleeping on the couch and I told her to be good girl and that I loved her, then I gave her a kiss on the forehead. Next, I walked to my baby brother, who was in the floor playing with his toys, and I knelt down and said the same thing and gave him a kiss too. The last person I said goodbye to was my brother, who was a year younger than me. I walked over to him and I told him to be a good kid and to take care of the other two because they would need him and then I threw my arms around him and whispered that I loved him. I let go and with tears streaming down both of our faces, we let go of each others hands and I walked through the door.

I had thought my life was falling completely apart and it took me a while to accept that they were gone. For a while, I was trying to call them at least once a week, but they barely made any effort to call and it drained me. I was fighting for them, but they weren’t fighting for me. It was sad, it still is, but I learned that letting go of them and moving on was okay because they were well cared for and happy, as was I. It took a lot for me to realize that it hurt more to hold onto something that wasn’t going to happen than to let go of it.

 I’m still letting go, one day at a time. 

Reviews

[A.G.]

Thank you for sharing your story. I understand, It is hard at times to open up about the things that hurts us the most, especially the things we try to let go of from our past. I can relate to your words, when you said you realized that it hurt more to hold on to something than letting go of it. When I opened up about when I was sexually abused, it was sort of a relief, but I still had a lot of hatred towards him. One day, I had a dream and this deep urge to go over to my stepdads house and tell him that I forgave him. I decided to let go and ever since that day, I been getting better and am learning to love myself. Thank you for sharing your heart with us. It was all lovely.
-Angelina

[LitStar]

very sad


your writing really drew us in