by Crystal Simoneau

Created on: May 09, 2008

My Life

When I was fifteen years old, I was rebellious, out of control and most of all, unsupervised. I did drugs, partied and was sexually promiscuous. I was on a path of destruction and didn't even realize it. My parents weren't around much and they didn't set down very many rules to follow. I could stay out late and sleep over friends houses. My grades were always average. I would do just enough to get by and my parents never seemed to care. There were never any repercussions for my actions. My parents would tell me that the choices I make affect everyone in our family. I just looked at them smug and carried on. I realize now that I should have listened. The decisions I made as a child affected everyone immensely.

The biggest choice that I made, that affected my family, was becoming pregnant at fifteen years old. Within days of finding out that I was pregnant, I packed my things in trash bags and snuck out of the house. My boyfriend and I moved in to a bedroom at a friend's house. I didn't work and during that time we both dropped out of high school.

My Dad showed up at the door unexpectedly one day. This was not long after I had moved out of my parents house. He had such anger in his eyes. He wanted for me to come home and asked me what I was thinking. I stood in front of him with nothing to say and didn't move. He turned and walked out the door. That was the last time we talked for many years and the last time he looked at me. For many years to follow he would walk by me with his head hung in shame. I wasn't his little girl any more. The one that sat on his lap in the rocking chair and watched TV with him in the evenings. I wasn't the little girl who put on her boots in the winter and helped him lug in wood for the stove. In his eyes, that little girl was gone .

My Mother has always had somewhat of a cold heart. She would never shed a tear over anything. When she would hear any bad news, she would shrug it off, say toughen up and go on about her day. But at the news of me being pregnant and leaving home, she cried. She held me one day in the car and she cried. She didn't say a word, but I think she was crying for me. She was so sad, thinking about all that I was going to have to face at such a young age. She was sad that I was gone and not her baby any more.

Thinking back, it hurts the most to remember when I was leaving and my little sister was sitting on the couch. I went and sat next to her and gave her a hug. She sobbed. I could feel her tears running down

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