April Summner Narrative

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“We are gathered here today to celebrate the life of April Summner.” Me and my dad, Jackson, were at my mom 's funeral. When the doctors told us she only had three months to live, we didn’t take it seriously. When Jay heard, he left the family for dry and never even left a text or phone call since. Nobody ever saw this coming, or happening to my mother. Me and dad were driving home, dad sobbing into the steering wheel, struggling to get the words out, and me not having any words to say. I felt broken inside. The words we both wanted to say we 're never going to come out. She’s gone. I knew we both wanted to say it, but deep down we didn’t want to believe it. He looked away from the road for a split second when…show more content…
When we arrived at his apartment ,I had to stop and look at everything. A lamp in the corner, flat screen tv mounted on the wall, liquor bottles on the leather couch, a kitchen with every appliance imaginable and long cabinet. If only mom and dad could see this, I thought. After a long silence and a hovering sense of loneliness filled the room like air, He walked over and popped two pills into his mouth. “Sorry sis. Habit that hasn’t been broken yet.” he apologizes. “It’s okay. You did it at home,” I replied, “well before you left anyhow” “I can explain why I left..” “Okay why?” “I went to the hospital for overdosing and trying to kill myself the night before mom got diagnosed. My girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend, broke up with me and you already know about the whole gang thing. Because mom and dad probably already told you that part. When they arrived at the hospital, they told me that I could either stop or leave. So I chose to leave” “Well, are you still doing the pills?’ I asked. “What’s it look like?” Jay retorted,”Yeah, they 're the only thing that keeps me sane these days Clea. My therapist prescribed them, so I either take them or go back to rehab. And rehab is a living…show more content…
No other words, could describe it. After the cops questioned me about what I saw, what I heard, they sent me there. Other kids my age were crying into their pillows. most likely about how their parents dropped them off there and never came back. me on the other hand, wouldn’t cry. I wasn’t abandoned. I wasn’t abused. I was just hurt. Their families probably didn 't care about them. My whole family cared about me. They just faded away, like a puff of smoke. They were slowly breaking apart. Piece by piece. My caramel skin, emerald eyes, long black hair, and slim figure didn’t seem the same anymore. My bubbly personality, alike my moms, didn 't seem like mine

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