I was going into my senior year in high school. I was attending a college program for high school seniors. I was enjoying myself being away from home and gaining college credits. I called home and my sister told me we were moving. She said we got a letter from the Sheriff that said that we had to leave in 30 days. The owners of the house we were living in were selling the house and we had to go. I wasn't at home to pack my things. I was so mad and sad.
When I got home, we were crammed into one of the bedrooms at my grandmothers. My mom took the 3 youngest children to a homeless shelter. She allowed my sister and me to stay at my grandmothers. It was August and my mom was 6 months pregnant. It wasn't until late September when she found us a new home. However, things were horrible.
When my mom finally found us a place to live, she came to my grandmothers and commanded that my sister and me get our things. "We are leaving," was all she said. She didn't tell us where we were going or anything. I got upset and had an attitude because we had just come home from school and there was no communication about anything, just, "get your things...we are leaving." I was too mad to cry. When she took us to our new house I became severely depressed. The neighborhood was horrible. There were drug dealers and shootouts. The house was horrible. I couldn't eat or sleep. We had roaches and I just couldn't get comfortable. I tried to hold it together, but one day I just stopped showering and stopped eating. I was so sad. One day going to school my aunt saw me and how I was dressed. She grabbed me and put me in the car and took me to my grandmother's to shower. She fussed at me the entire way because she knew that I was always a neat, clean person. I loved dressing up to go to school. I loved looking good and polished, but this time, I looked a hot mess. Once I got showered and cleaned up I felt better and I went to school. That was the day I started praying to God.
I asked God what I needed to do and I can remember hearing God tell me to ask my mom if I could live with my grandmother. I prayed and prayed about it because I was always scared to ask my mother for anything. She wasn't a nice person. My mom went into labor and my baby brother was born October 5. When she got home, I went to her room and asked her what God told me to ask. She said, "No." I was crushed. I asked God what I was gonna do. He didn't say anything. A few minutes later my mom called me back into her room. She said, "Pack your bags and call your grandmother." What she didn't know was that my bags were already packed. I hadn't unpacked anything. That was a hard time in my life. Even though I was happy to leave, I was sad to leave my brothers and sisters. There were many times when they would ask me when I was coming back home. I would cry and pray to God that my mother wouldn't be mad at me. My mom and I didn't speak for a long time, but God answered my prayers. We began to talk again.
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