A long time ago, when I turned five, my brothers and I had to choose who we wanted to live with, our Mother or our Father. We all chose our kind Father who was trying his best to provide for us. My Mother stormed out the room huffing about how we were all ungrateful children.

Later that night I was in my room playing with my new toys and and spending time with Dora, my cat, and Mocha, my dog. I was trying to act as though everything was normal but for as long as I could remember my Mother was always yelling at my kind Father for no good reason. It was one of those times again were she was yelling but this time I could also hear my Father sobbing quietly, which was very frighting. So I listened in a little but only herd bits of there conversation.

"...THEY NEED TO BE AROUND MORE... AGE..." My Mother yelled from what I think was the game room.

My Dads broken reply was "Please... ease don't... this." I didn't know what any of this meant.

When My mother showed up in my room I was a little concerned.

"Pack your stuff we are leaving tonight." She told me in a serous tone.

I packed but didn't think I would be going anywhere with out my Dad. When I was done packing my Mother put my stuff in the trunk of the car. She roughly grabbed my shoulder and told me to say goodbye to my brothers and my Dad.