Personal Narrative: Divorce

“What do you think about we will divorce?” asked me my mother.

“Humm… I think that is fine if you want to do so,”

“Okay. Think about which you want to be with me or your dad,”

“I got it,” The air in the living room strained. She looked like tired, pale, and thin. She stared my face for a while and went away from living room. The sound from variety show became noise. I expired my mother would probably ask me about it. However, I wished it won’t be happen. Actually, I hoped my parents might make a good relationship again in my heart. My family did well until when I was 12 years old, as far as I remember. We went for dinner every weekend or had a dinner at home. I liked to prepared for dinner for my family and hear the

I decided to be with my mother as I liked my mother more than my father. I could understand why she determined to divorce. My father didn’t have a good character when that time. He was clumsy and easily got irritated and raised his voice like an old-school man.. She said to me, “ I will rent a new room which located close to my workplace”. Her workplace had close to my high school. Therefore, I thought living with my mother could be good for me because it took 30 minutes to go to the school from the workplace by bicycle, while from my house took 45 minutes. And also, I needed to cross a bridge to go to the school. She intended to live the room with me and my brother. However, my brother decided to stay in our house against her thinking. I don’t know why he wanted to stay there because I have never asked him about that. I guess he stayed our house same reason with me that his school was closer from our house.. I thought it could be good for us that my brother lived with my father since nobody to be

One day, I visited to my house for the first time in months. I couldn’t believe it was my house. It looked like someone’s house. I felt we were not same as before. The air in the house cleared up. I came down from the second floor to the first floor. I set in front of the family Buddhist altar to pray. A small white paper caught my eyes. Buddhist used to write their wishes on the paper. I read the paper.

“I wish come back Satoko” Satoko is my mom’s name.

There was a lonely atmosphere in the room. Finally, I understood why my father told me whether my mother had a boyfriend. I surprised he still loved her though, I was really glad he loved her that the same as before. At the same time, I thought why he didn’t tell her about it earlier. I went home by bicycle while increasing the speed