Story- Samantha Rodriguez

I actually woke up in a good mood today, even though I only slept for three hours. I was up thinking; thinking about how I can make myself matter. I didn't want to get out of bed, just another day of living hell. Going to school will probably be the death of me, I mean it’s no fun if you have absolutely no friends and you actually sit in the bathroom for lunch like all the movies. It’s been like that since freshman year, alone, only friends are my pen and my paper. Everyone thinks I’m just that girl that pays attention to only her books, but I’m not. I’m actually failing 6 out of 7 classes. The only one I’m passing is chemistry, I don’t know why but I have just always understood it. It just came to me the first day of sophomore year. I guess I don’t know how it feels to have a best friend, I would like to know, but then again how can someone be so comfortable around someone? Maybe I will never know, or maybe I will, I just don’t know. Now, school isn't half as bad as home. Going home to a drunken mom and two little brothers isn't the best thing. Every day is the same thing, I go home pour my mom another glass of vodka and coke before she screams about how much of a disappointment I am, do all the housework that’s been left since the night before, feed and spend time with my two little brothers, then go to bed. Ever since my dad died, my mom hasn't been the same. She’s just not happy anymore, and to be honest, me either. He was my only sanity. He kept me strong, and happy. Stupid cancer. Stupid; stupid cancer. I wish he didn't leave us, it happened 3 years ago, but it kills me more and more every day. My dad and I had a special bond. We did everything together basically. Watched t.v, played baseball, went to hockey games, and most importantly, had ice cream every Friday at Tinas. I told my dad everything, and when I say everything, I mean everything. He always knew who I had a crush on, or what outfit I was dying to buy. I guess I was wrong when I said I have never had a best friend, because all in all, my dad was my best friend. I miss him, I miss him more than anything, but there was nothing I could of done to stop the cancer in his brain. My mom reacted way worse to his death, she started drinking everyday, she drank to the point where she would put vodka in her coffee. She didn't think I would notice, but who wouldn't notice when their mothers breath smelled like the old bar down the street. I can't remember the last time I had a conversation with her, probably the day before my father died. The only thing we ever discuss is who is cleaning the house today, or making sure my brothers are fed and have their homework done. She acts like she cares, but in all honesty she can care less. The biggest worry on her mind is if she has enough alcohol to get her through the day. She lays in her bed all day, with her ‘special’ drinks, watching t.v. We live off my fathers social security, I mean she quit her job as a nurse two days after he died. I definitely wouldn't consider us broke, but with the amount she blows on alcohol, we barely make it. I do the shopping in the house, I make sure I get all my brothers favorite foods, they at least deserve to be happy. I love my brothers, they are the main reason i'm still here today. I take them everywhere I can. We go on walks to the park, buses to museums downtown, and the library down the street. They consider me more of a mother then ‘her’. I’m only 17, I shouldn't be living the life I am, but its okay, I'm doing it for my brothers. I guess I forgot to mention my fathers last words to me; “Take care of your brothers, please”. I promised my dad I would, and the last thing I would ever do is break a promise my father and I made. I can tough it out I guess. I have made it through 3 years, I can make it through more. So, I’m not just doing this for my brothers, but for my father too.