The wind storm around the house; knocked on the window like the police were trying to break down the door. I jumped in fright, startled that the walls would come crashing down around me. The wind was too strong for a small, broken home like this one. The floors creaked when you walked among them, the foundation was not leveled. I couldn’t hang posters on the walls because they were to hollow. That home was a mess and if the wind blew any harder, the whole home may have collapsed. I warned my parents a couple days about the storm we were about to have. I told them how fierce, harsh, and uncontrollable the winds were supposed to be. I figured since we lived in such a broken home that we should have left and stayed somewhere more stable. They didn’t listen to me… like always. I’ve been having these dreams, not normal dreams these are different from normal dreams. One dream I had that night was about my mother and father; they both died and I didn’t cry before, during or after the funeral. I couldn’t bring myself to cry, I watched my little sibling cry his eyes out but I didn’t cry, I watched as my home got taken away from my little sibling and I but I didn’t cry. By the end of the dream all I was thinking that was how free I felt from this broken home. When I woke up I didn’t feel scared about the dream or frighten about that dream, I actually was more upset on the fact that it wasn’t true. That was dream and not reality, all I could think about is how I wished that my dream would come true. All I could have wished for at the time was my dream to come true. You may wonder, if the home was as broken as I said it was. Then why were we living in it? And that’s a good question; well you see my father’s father gave him that house when he passed away. Just like my grandfather’s father gave it to him. This house has been in my family for three generations now. And just like my father always told me that when he was gone he would leave the house to me and I would be the fourth generation in that home. That’s not going to happen; if you asked me I thought it was time to give up on that home.  I’m not even sure that this hunk of brick and cement can be called a home by the state anymore. Both of my parents loved that home too much to let it go. Me on the other hand, I couldn’t wait to be of age to get out of that home. Another thing I couldn’t wait for was that storm to be over. The entire home shook enough to have made my bones jumped out of my skin. I wasn’t sure at that time if anyone awaken by the storm, but I had a feeling that they were.  I knew for a fact that nobody could of slept through that type of weather; Not my family, anyways. When I got downstairs, I saw my mother was in her pink champagne robe while she paced back and forth. My father was sitting on the couch, holding my little sibling who was sobbing a waterfall. The home shook ferociously; that made my little sibling weep even harder than before. I didn’t know what to do but I didn’t want to be alone; so I sat next to my father. I guess he must ofhave been spaced out because when I sat down that him sprang up in surprise. My mother stopped her pacing and looked at my little sibling and I. She spoke to my father said that the whole family needed to go pack our bags because we’re staying with friends until the storm was over. I couldn’t believe what my ears were hearing. Before the storm I said we should stay somewhere else when the storm hits. They wouldn’t dare listen to me. But now, during the storm they thought it would be a good idea to get out of that pitiful neglected home. As  As always my parents never agreed on anything, so my father just had to disagree with that idea. My father started to get angry, and I can always tell when he’s angry because his face get’s all red, his eyes slant; it looks like he’s sleeping. His fist, clenched and un – clenched every so often. When my mother was angry she’ll pace across the floor, lips perched and if she was raging fire she would tap her foot rapidly. I normally didn’t see my mother on her full fiery mode but I always see my father’s fiery mode every day. My father’s temper was nothing to mess with. I remember one time he got so enraged at my mother because she had brought a dress without him knowing. Let’s just say that my father is a huge control freak, he had to be the boss of everything and everybody or, he would go crazy. I snapped out of the rampage in my head when suddenly I heard drops of water poured onto the floor. At first I thought it my little sibling was messing with me but then it continued and continued. I looked and realized that there was a hole in the ceiling and the rain from outside was coming inside. The hole was not big enough to drown the home but it was still a great amount of water that came through the roof. I guessed my father heard it at the same time. He looked up and cursed like a sailor at the fact of having to patch that up. In the meantime, he sat my little sibling down: went and fetched the bucket. When he came back, he slammed the bucket on the ground and went to the kitchen to talk to my mother. I didn’t know what to do, I mean I wanted to stayed in the living room and comforted my little sibling but I also wanted to know what my parents were talking about in the kitchen. That was one of my favorite hobbies and sitting on the steps, or sitting outside my parents door and listening while they talked about their lives. It’s better than what I do on a daily basis, I like listening to their problems than put on a fake smile some days and pretend that I’m happy. Sometimes it’s hard to pretend, but I'm a good actor. Nobody see the pain under my skin, they all see the scars and bruises above my skin. That’s when I make up excuses like I fell to make everyone thinks I'm so happy. I have to make them think that I have a happy privileged life. Everybody misses one thing... I'm not happy. And I'm not living a happy life either. I think some caught on but I couldn’t have that so I asked my father for a puppy and got one.  I figured that it would be more believable to say why I have so many scars and bruises because I have a dog. My mother and father don’t say it out loud but I have known the truth for a while now, my little sibling doesn’t know anything not like I do. They don’t love each other, they never did; it was more like an arranged marriage, they never got a chance to fall in love with one another and they never will. My mother would never have known what love is, or to ever be in love. She is too much of a perfectionist to ever be in a real relationship, the only relationship she will ever be in; is one where her husband cheat on her will his mistress and young secretaries every single night then come home so he can act like he’s happy. I then decided to leave my little sibling for a quick hot minute; I sat by the wall next to the kitchen door. They argued about if we should have left the home and have gone to find somewhere else to have stay or should we have stayed here because the storm outside was too strong to have traveled in. They argued for ages but after awhile I got bored of listening. They fought like broken records, when one record continued to skip then, they put on a different record but that one happens to be broken as well. I don’t know why they were still together, I always wondered if they stayed together because of my little sibling. I know that my mother had known for a while that my father had a few mistresses. And I had known that my father know that my mother knew. This is a broken home, broken marriage that tired to be put back together with glue and duct tape. The second I sat back down on the couch with my little sibling, the kitchen door came busting open with my parents screaming and yelling at each other. They don’t normally fight in front of us because they know that it will scare my little sibling. But they didn’t seem to care that day, they yelled and yelled while my little sibling was cried and cried. There I was just siting in the middle not knowing what to do, should I comforted my brother or should I have tried to stop my mother and my father. A loud thump made everybody go still and I am pretty sure if someone dropped a gum rapper everybody would have hear it. We didn’t speak, yelled, and no body dared to move. We just sat there very still, as if we were statues. The first one to move around the house was my father. I must say he had guts because after a boom, boom, shake, shake, drop like that in that home. Trust me when I said this, I wouldn’t have moved a month after a shake like that. The tiniest noise that would have had our heads turned. My father told my little sibling and I to go get our stuff from the room so that we can leave. Of course, my mother was not happy about that. They always had to start fights with one another. She was the one who wanted to leave but when my father said it was time to go, she gets an attitude and has to start a fight. My little sibling and I went up stairs to go pack, so we could get out of there. By the time we got back down stairs, our parents were almost already to go. My father was ready whereas my mother was still packing her most precious items. My mother told my little sibling and I to go downstairs and get our emergency care kit from the cellar. I took my puppy and my little sibling with me to look for the care kit. While I was looking for it, I told my little sibling to sit in the corner, so he wouldn’t get in my way. There was nothing more I wanted than to get out of that storm. I felt the home shake furiously, that made me look even harder for all the materials my mother needed. I stumbled upon a radio and I turned it on, a spokesman was blaring through the radio speakers. He kept saying over and over; how people should stay indoors and be in a safe spots. I figured that we should listen to what the guy was saying, so I told my little sibling to stay in the same spot and not move. Just in case it’s a little dangerous. As soon I went to go open the door, the loudest bang shook the home. The lights were flickering on and off, the ground was erupting I thought it would split right down the middle. My puppy was barking non – stop, my little sibling cried over and over, the barraged had scared me so much to were I had drop the radio on my foot. I didn’t know tears were coming down my face until I felt the water on my neck. Once the home stop shaking, I had a bad feeling about opening the door. When I did, I saw that there was no more of this broken home, no more of this broken family. But, when that happen; I didn’t care that my parents were taken from me. So, I shut the door, picked up the radio, and then I sat down. All I cared about was being freed from a broken home.

                                         THE END!