October 31, 2014
One of the hardest times in my life was when my parents were getting divorced. I was around 10 years old and living in South Lyon. Before this happened, my life was actually pretty good. I played football, went to school, hung out with my friends, I was just like any other kid. It wasn't a sudden change either, it was a slow process. However, one thing that promoted my parents' divorce was a house fire. One night while I was sleeping, the water heater in my house blew up and caused most of my house to burn to the ground. The one thing I remember is looking back over my shoulder and watching the fire fighters attempt to put the flames out. I watched as the flames hungrily crawled up the side of my house, licking the dry wood.
I could only hear repetitive, loud talking the whole night. The smell was awful, even though I don't remember it well. I remember how bad the taste of burning wood and ash was as it filled my lungs and tried to choke me. After this happened, things only got worse. My family and I had to move in with my grandparents, while we got back on our feet. It was hard for me to comprehend everything that was happening at such a young age. We eventually rented an apartment and lived there for a while. This is about the time when my parents were making the divorce final and I had really started to realize and understand everything that had been happening around me. Right after the divorce, my mother moved back in with my grandparents and my dad moved into a trailer. I had lived...