I have to do this. For Mom.

Today's the day I die inside just a little more. Today I stick through the packing and the moving and the emptiness my room will look. I've been up all night and I don't plan on sleeping when I leave the keyboard to itself. I'm going to pack and pack and pack until fall to the ground weak. We have two weeks to pack everything and move out. So what if our pipes are freezing? We can stick through it like we did during the Ice Storm. Then of course, I think to myself, Mom can't take it. She has put everything she can in this house to keep it nice and homey. Now our pipes are frozen, our bills are raising, I can't get a job to help pay, and we're all nearly there to getting sick. Being fifteen, I sound like a child. Maybe it's because my cycle has started... but I think it's also because if I don't start packing without stopping, I'll lodge myself somewhere unreachable and I won't come out again. Like I did when my dad left us, at my young age of four, and like I did when she died, three years ago... and like I did when dad moved half way across the world two years ago. I can't leave my mom like that again.
If you can make sense of my senseless words, than congrats, you just learned how to speak my dull, sarcastic language in one reading. If not, well than maybe you'll learn later on what I am tryign to make sense in my life. Thank you for your time, my non existant readers.
~When you are used to soothing sounds of purring and suddenly it's gone, it lets in the blaring sounds of lonliness.~
Kayla.