Packing my stuff wasn't easy, reminiscing all the things i did in this home brought tears to my eyes.
I wasn't happy for leaving, but clearly my mom was. She had been thinking about this moment ever since my dad was killed at a drive-by.
We were laying in the couch when we heard the phone ring, a cop in the other side informing us that my dad was killed; he wasn't supposed to work that day, he wasn't supposed to be there..it was the wrong time and the wrong place for him to be
"Bree are you done packing?" my mom asked frustratingly. "yes mom ill be down in 5 minutes..ill put my stuff in the moving truck, ok? " .
i was taking my time because i seriously didn't wanna leave my home, my town, my school, my friends, i didn't want to leave my dad behind, he was the one that teached me everything i knew about basketball the sport that brought me the most happiness in a while and well also playing the guitar.
the thought of leaving everything behind ached my body, i had to start new and be somewhere i clearly didn't know. but i had to be brave and do it.
so i got everything ready and said goodbye to the house that saw me grow up.