When I was about seven, my mom and dad got divorced. I didn’t know what was going on, or what was going to happen. My dad said they sat me and my brother down and told us what was going to happen, but since I was so little, I don’t remember the conversation.
My brother, my mom, and I moved out of the house to a little apartment in Gayville. It was only about five minutes away from my dad’s house, so we got to see him all the time. That was until the "other guy" came along. I never really thought Roger would fit in very well, and I never really liked him from the start. He was brought up with a set of values that was totally different from what I was used to. He was always harsh with me and my brother; we had to grow up, and we had to do it fast.
My mom would always work late on Wednesday nights, so Roger would pick us up from the babysitter. Those were the nights of the week that I feared the most. We never got along because whenever there was an argument, I would always stand my ground, and he didn’t like it.
Since the divorce became final, he hasn’t been around anymore, and things have gotten a lot easier. Although it is a relief when Wednesday nights come around, there is definitely one thing that I learned from him. When you have to grow up fast and don’t think what is happening is fair, it more than likely isn’t. Even if it isn’t fair, though, you still have to deal with it.