Freewrite

It's 7:05 PM on Friday, February 15th, 2008. I haven't slept in forty-eight hours, and I won't sleep for another twelve. My mother is gone. She's been doing this a lot lately. Just leaving. What really kills me is having to take care of Jeremy and Christina. They're not little kids -- Jeremy is my twin and Christina only a year younger, but neither can fend for themselves. I'm cooking dinner and I'm wondering where she is. I'm worrying that she won't come back. What about my surgery tomorrow? What. About. My fucking. Surgery.? I won't be able to drive myself home afterwards. I won't even be able to think straight. How dare she. How dare she leave her children like this. I want her to come back. I want to kill her, and yet, I know that when she does return, we will only get into another yelling match, and I will simply return to the solitude of my room. The only thing keeping me from leaving now is the fact that I know if I left, Jeremy and Christina would be lost. Never out the door on time for school, never have balanced meals with protein, vegetables, vitamins. I am not a parent. I can not HANDLE being a parent. Perhaps I understand the world better than they do, but I am a kid. I am not capable of parenting. I can not keep track of their lives and my own. I cannot raise two teenagers, being one myself. I am not a parent. I am not even a stable human being. Don't you understand that, mother? I am a danger to the mentality of your other children. Do not leave us here to rot.