We're In This Together

If life were easy, it would be a playground. Life's not easy, we just have to take it one step at a time. Life throws a lot of twists and turns at us and we just have to face them no matter how unreasonable or tough. Sometimes I try to give up but I won't let myself because I know I can do something about it. Some kids commit suicide for some depressing and sad reasons. Not all bad things have to end in suicide. Things can change and get better. This is the story of "Kiley Jones".

It was like any other day first the beating and the screaming, then the crying and release. Kiley's sister was the brat, the imperfect girl, the dissapointment, so her parents thought. Everyday Kiley watched her sister be beat by their cruel parents. They loved Kiley very much but not Merissa(Kiley's sister). As if it wasn't bad enough, Merissa was already cutting herself every day after the beating. Kiley couldn't stand it. One day Kiley came home right when her mom slapped Merissa. Merissa ran off into her room. Kiley decided to follow. Kiley scooted open the door as she saw something she never wanted to see. The deepest cut Merissa had ever made up her right arm. Kiley ran to Merissa's side. "No! Kiley screamed, it doesn't have to end this way!" her scream scratching her throat. Merissa barely opened her eyes and lifted her hand, "It's what t-t-they would h-a-ave wanted." she stammered barely able to speak. Kiley looked at her sister with a wet face and dry throat, "I'm getting help." she cried "Don't bother. I'll be happier in heaven." Merissa struggled to say. Kiley rushed her to the hospital, pushing through their parents. Merissa lay in the hospital bed healthy as ever. Kiley looked at her sister with a smile, "We're in this together and I'll always protect you. We're safe now."

"how much your daddy makes an hour??"

With a timid voice and idolizing eyes, the little boy greeted his father as he returned from work, "Daddy, how much do you make an hour?"

Greatly surprised, but giving his boy a glaring look, the father said: "Look, son, not even your mother knows that. Don't bother me now, I'm tired."

"But Daddy, just tell me please!? How much do you make an hour," the boy insisted.

The father finally giving up replied: " Twenty dollars per hour."
"Okay, Daddy? Could you loan me ten dollars?" the boy asked.

Showing restlessness and positively disturbed, the father yelled:
"So that was the reason you asked how much I earn, right?? Go to sleep and don't bother me anymore!"

It was already dark and the father was meditating on what he had said and was feeling guilty. Maybe he thought, his son wanted to buy something.

Finally, trying to ease his mind, the father went to his son's room.
"Are you asleep son?" asled the father.
"No, Daddy. Why?" replied the boy partially asleep.
"Here's the money you asked for earlier," the father said.

"Thanks, Daddy!" rejoiced the son, while putting his hand under his pillow and removing some money.

"Now I have enough! Now I have twenty dollars!" the boy said to his father, who was gazing at his son, confused at what his son just said. "Daddy could you sell me one hour of your time?"