March 7, 2005
2181 89TH STREET, THORNTON
The bedroom window faced north, onto the backyard. The furniture was scratchy, brown and orange. The house was cramped, uncomfortable. I don't remember my mother or her boyfriend. I seemed to bump around in silence, trying not to be there. I don't know where my brother or father were living. Because it was hard to be carefree, first grade was difficult. The playground was lonely. Then, her boyfriend hit her.
We relocated to our friend Becky's wild apartment. I shared her kids bedroom, mom slept on the couch. I resumed first grade at her children's school.