Breaking Arguements

Another day, another fight, sometimes I think I can swear on the fact that we fight every day. Now you’re probably wondering who in the world I’m talking about. Well, I’m talking about my mother and I. We get into fights all the time. Usually they’re about silly things but still, that’s not the point. The point is it seems like all we do anymore is fight.

I’ve tried to talk to her about it, but that just starts another fight. By the end I’m usually really upset. I try to be strong but I just can’t be anymore. I’m not some adult; I’m just a teenage girl. Not everything is meant to be my fault and I shouldn’t feel like it is.

My eyes wondered over to the bedroom window as I walked into the room. I slammed the door behind me, though it wasn’t on purpose. I walked over and fell upon my bed, tears streaming down my rosy red cheeks. When did our ‘family’ get so screwed up. Was it after father walked out? Maybe it was after brother left. No, maybe it was when father started hanging around again and causing trouble.

I’m not sure where it started really or why. Everything just seemed to be slowly falling apart and finally, more recently, everything just collapsed leaving nothing left. Now I’m not sure what to do in order to go about rebuilding, or even cleaning up the mess. The disaster just seems to be getting bigger and bigger and it’s getting so hard to control.

They say nothing lasts forever, well I guess now I can see. Nothing in this world is strong enough to hold on through everything and anything that comes its way. So eventually it will have to break apart and crumble until it is nothing but a pile of shattered pieces along the ground. If only I had understood this sooner, maybe I could have done something to stop it, to fix it. If I really think about it though, I wonder if I really could have done anything. Would it really have been so easy, even if I had known?

Somewhere inside I know that there was little to nothing that I could have done to stop or to change this. I had to try and remember that it wasn’t my fault. None of this was my fault, even if it felt like it was sometimes. I knew it wasn’t, though sometimes it was hard to say that and believe it. It’s the truth though and inside I know that sometimes it’s just a little hard to believe.

As I looked up from my pillow, the evening sky was approaching. I began to wonder how long I had been lying here crying. It felt like time wasn’t passing fast enough so I couldn’t bring myself to look at the clock. The nagging of the time remained in my mind like an alarm and eventually I gave in to look at the bedside clock. It had been almost half an hour, I was actually surprised. It hadn’t felt like time had gone anywhere. I guess it had moved forward. Maybe I was just lost in my thoughts again.

I sat up slowly with a small sigh. I wiped away my tears before looking back to the window. My eyes closed and I prayed to god for help. I needed help; I couldn’t do this all alone anymore. I wasn’t sure if I believed in god or not, but if he was there I really could use his help. So I prayed, with all my heart and soul I prayed for help, for knowledge to know what to do. I just didn’t know what to do.

My eyes slowly opened and I ended the prayer with an amen. I wasn’t sure what kind of answer I would get, or if I even would get an answer at all but I still had to try. At this point, god was my last hope. Who else could I turn too? My family was of no help, mother and I were always fighting, my friends just told me to forget about it, it would blow over, and father was just as helpful as a blade of dead glass. Yes, I am being serious.

So I had no where, no one else to turn too. I didn’t think that I would get a very direct answer from god, but maybe something, anything would help. That’s what I wanted to believe. I wanted to believe in him and that he would help me. I just hoped that’s all I needed.