I only had ten bucks, a backpack full of random clothes, a bus pass that expires next week, and a picture of a family I had. Five years ago I never would have pictured myself on a bus heading to God knows where in the middle of the night. I slumped on the cold hard seat near the front of the bus and I sat there and wondered what the heck I was doing and what the heck was I going to do. To tell you the truth, I was just fed up with my friends, my family, and just my entire life. I watched the rain pour outside the window and a sudden rush of memories and emotions filled up inside me. I hate rain, but there was once a time when I used to love it.
I would look forward to winter every year. Now, I don't really look forward to anything. When I was little, and when it rained, I would rush home after school with my little sister and run straight to the kitchen knowing cookies and hot cocoa would be waiting for me. Most important of all, my mom would be there standing by the fireplace wondering how to turn it on. I just loved those days. They were so peaceful and I thought that it was going to stay like that for eternity. The rain was so soothing and calming that you just wanted to sit down and listen to the raindrops forever. But that same rain was the thing that ruined my life. What am I thinking? Why should I blame the rain? It was all my fault. It was my fault my mom and sister aren't with me anymore. It was my fault that they are gone forever. It was raining really hard that day and my sister didn't go to school because she was sick. My mom wanted to pick me up because of the heavy rain, and I insisted that I was okay. That didn't stop my mom though. She cared for me so much. When she called she said she was five minutes away and that she loved me. I heard my little sister in the background yelling bomshakalaka. I chuckled as I closed my cell phone. I sat on the wet bench with my hello kitty umbrella. I waited and suddenly I heard a screeching noise down the street and a big bang. I stood up quickly from the sudden noise and I stared in the direction of where the noise came from. My heart skipped a beat as I dropped my umbrella and fell to the floor. I just started breaking down and crying hysterically. I have no idea why, but I just did. I was only ten and I can't remember that day very clearly. But I could never forget this sharp pain I felt inside me. It felt like this fragile piece of thread breaking slowly until it finally broke into two. Then it all turned black.
It took a couple of weeks before we finally got used to setting the table for two instead of four. It took a couple of months before me and my dad could go through a day without crying. And it took a couple of years for my dad to marry again and start new while forgetting his past, including me. He never looked at me in the face, he never talked just because he wanted to, and he never said he loved me for two years. My stepmom was okay once in awhile. She would buy me stuff and talk to me like I was actually worth talking to, but when it came between me and her own son (my half-brother) I came in last. I was sick and tired of my family ignoring me and my friends' pity. I had no aunts or uncles, cousins or grandparents. I just want to find a place where I can be home. Somewhere I can see my mom and sister again. I wasn't about to do anything rash. I was just longing to see them that's all. Half an hour had past and it was time to get off the bus. My butt was already numb from sitting too long. I decided that the next stop was my stop.