Divorce-Personal Narrative

The worst time in my life would have to be when my parents got divorced, and the time that followed. When i was in the eighth grade, my parents asked me to come into their room, because they needed to talk to me about something. I walked into that room knowing that they were going to tell me they were going to get a divorce. How did i know that? I have no idea, except the fact that my parents have been fighting about little things for a long time, and i just did not know how they could live like that for much longer. That night, my mom slept in my bed with me, we did not sleep much because I had so many questions. The next morning I woke up to find that my dad was gone. He had taken all of his stuff and walked out the door and went to go live …show more content…
The shoes were colorful and small, a little bigger than my feet were at the time. I set my shoes next to them, and went into my dads room to ask him about the little shoes. There was a woman setting on his bed with him, all these questions started racing through my head, I needed to know who this was and why are you sitting on my dads bed. My dad told me all about how he met this woman and why she is here. My dad said, that she worked with him, and she needed a place to live while she was having her divorce finalized. As time went on I knew she was there for more than just that, we started going on trips with her and her family, and she was sleeping in the same bed as my dad. It is clear at this point that their dating, she was around us all the time, and her kids started staying the night. My dad pushed me to the side all the time, he would always put her and her kids …show more content…
It seemed that they were doing everything but getting married. I was sixteen at the time, I had been pushed aside so many times it was to hard to count. I got the bedroom no one wanted. I slept on the floor in hotel rooms, because there were two adults and three kids but only two beds. I never got to pick what I wanted to eat or watch, it was always the other kids that got to do everything. One day I was done, I had enough, I told my mom I was not going to go back to his house ever again. My mom was supportive, she stuck by my side the whole time. My dad texted me and asked me when I was coming over, I told him I was not going to come over ever again. He called my mom, he told her that if she did not bring me to his house he would call the police. He had to call the police and they made me go with him, but they sad when I turned seventeen I did not haft to go to his house anymore. I counted down the days, then the day I turned seventeen I got in my car and left his house. I did not talk to him for almost a whole year after that happened.

I am eighteen now, i have talked to my dad only a few times since the day I turned seventeen. After I turned eighteen, I started seeing him a little more. I am a senior in high school, and he has tried to be in my life more, I think this is because he thinks that he is about to loose me because I am going into collage. I believe as the years go on we will