Jake
My mother stepped out of the room only long enough for me to get dressed. I could tell that she was just outside my door waiting, by the small cries I could hear coming from her even from all the way inside my bathroom. My mother was my everything. Talking to my father like that in front of her was not something I was expecting to do. Sometimes he would bring things like that out of me. He also needed to hear what I said, though it was a little harsher than I would have liked it to be. What I said was all I had ever wanted to say to him without ever having the courage to do so.
I picked out some torn jeans and a plain black t-shirt. When I finished putting my shoes
