Chapter 1: Past
Thinking about my mother has always been a difficult topic for me. Just thinking about how she never took the opportunity to tuck me in at night or even having a ridiculous conversation about "The Birds and the Bees". Not being capable of listening to all her childhood stories or listening to her sing in the car while she is driving down the street. My best friend, just leaving me; her five year old daughter in this house with a drunk father who cannot even take care of himself.
I remember walking into her bedroom as she packed her suitcases. One already packed that was a plaid tan and brown. The other was a wine-colored tint with an emerald green rim as well as the zipper. She whipped her eyes around the room as she hurried to place the last few socks, orange tooth brush and a bath sponge into her suitcase.
I tugged on her spring navy blue dress. "Momma...? Mommy....? Why are you packing? Where will we be going?" I questioned.