Hey guys. Its me, if you even remember me x3
I've been gone for about three weeks, but I'm coming back now <3

I kind of left you guys with a bad journal, and you guys deserve some explanation

This journal will be far from short, but if you read it all, I would truly appreciate it.

I'll tell everything in two parts: Part one is my background, part two is the event, and part three is life after

PART I My father was an alcoholic all of his life. He started at 14, and never quit. I had two younger sisters: Ashley and Katie. Every night when my mother was away at work, my dad would pass out on the couch, leaving me (7 years old) and my two younger sisters to cook dinner, get ready for school for the next morning, and put ourselves into bed. If we were lucky and quiet, dad would stay asleep. Most nights, we weren't so lucky. He would wake up and yell at us, screaming at the top of his lungs. We would come home from school to constant verbal abuse. This was my childhood up until my mom had my baby brother, Ean. I was 13 at the time. Dad got laid off of work, continued to drink, and started smoking a legal, mam-made marijuana called "Spice" and "K-2". With my mom working nightshift now, my dad always at home and always high/drunk, college and high school work (I'm taking both together at the Early College), and my sisters and I having to take care of my baby brother, my life was a living hell. The verbal abuse got worse, and there was even the occasional physical abuse, but only to me. Maybe it was because he knew that I hated him, or maybe it was because I was so much like my mom (she despised him), but whatever it was, I always got the bad end of everything, physical or verbal. He even threatened me with a gun before. Over the years, I learned how to cope by confiding in my friends. Its really them who I owe my sanity to. Without them, there's no doubt that I wouldn't be the person I am today. Sometimes though, their help wasn't enough. Dad kept getting worse, and up until about 3 months ago, he finally realized what he had done to us. He became depressed because the world hated him, because he hated it too, and never gave it a chance. He had no friends and his family despised him. He went to a class for depression for two weeks: three weeks prior to his death. At first, things were looking up. We were all happy for once in our life. He quit drinking and smoking, and I found my sense of peace. This didn't last too long though. The day after he left the class, he started drinking again, and we were back to where we were. For three days he drank, all of this leading up to the event that ended his life

PART II Its Thursday: three days after his classes ended. I'm asleep in my bedroom with my sister (we share beds). He comes upstairs, liquor on his breath. He wakes us up at one in the morning. He says "I'm going to the hospital, so I want you to take care of Ean tomorrow. Don't take him to school. I want you both to know that I love you." He walked downstairs. I thought nothing of it. It sounded like he was admitting himself to the hospital for drugs. I fell back to sleep. Ashley and I woke up again at 4:30 to hear my dad yelling on the phone downstairs. He destroyed his own phone and used my sister's to call my mom who was working nightshift, because he knew she would pick up if it was from Ashley's number. I heard him break that phone too then come rushing up the stairs. He grabbed something from his closet and walked back downstairs. Ashley followed him down the stairs before the two of us heard what sounded like a door slamming. Ashley came running up the stairs, unable to keep herself from shaking. "Dad's guncase is downstairs and the gun isn't in it and I can't find him anywhere! Call 911!" I tried keeping her calm, making sure neither her nor Katie go downstairs. I called the police and they showed up moments later, confirming what we all knew: Dad committed suicide right outside our bedroom window. Mom came home as soon as she heard, and we all stood there, not knowing what to say, what to do. And all of this time, my baby brother was asleep in his bed.

PART III The funeral in New York was the worst thing I have ever come to experience. I wasn't sad. I was mad. He left his five year old son to live without a father, who still asks for him to this day. His entire family was in the church, and yet, mom, Ash, and I were the only ones crying. They were laughing and having a good time at the banquet after, and none bothered to even send us a card. The words that still haunt me was when Ean looked at the picture of my father next to his ashes and said "Oh, my daddy!"
I became the second adult of the household. With me being the only child driving and my mom working, I'm constantly having to run around and drive everyone everywhere. I have to stay strong for my family, because I know they need me, but the weight of it all is sometimes too much to handle. I go upstairs one night when I hear Ean call my name. With tears in his eyes he looked at me and said "Haley, I wish I had a daddy". If it wasn't for Ean, things might be okay. But that poor innocent child who doesn't even know where his father went now has to grow up without one.


Its been three weeks to this day since the day everything happened, and we're slowly adjusting to our new life. We're finally living. Dad never let us do anything. Now, we have people over, we joined a gym, we leave the house spontaneously to do whatever we want, and we're fixing the house slowly so that we can live in it and be happy. Its different to say the least, and even though I still hate what he did, there is a hole in all of our lives, whether what was originally there was good or bad. But we're not letting that stop us from being who we are and who we want to be. Sure, juggling college classes, high school classes, a job, working at home, and being everyone's chauffeur is difficult, but... I kind of enjoy it. My family needs me right now, so that's what I want to do. I'm happy if they're happy, and we are.

We're finally happy.