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March 3, 2005 and 2012 have been the most devastating days of my life. The death of my parents has done so much more than make me open my eyes and think a lot about my future. It changed my life, my dignity, and my happiness.

When I was just six years old, my 42 year old mother lost her life for a reason that I am still not aware of. I remember the day when I lived in North Carolina as if it were just yesterday. The memory of how I opened the door and her face was as dark as the sky just before it rains. She started coughing as if her throat was impaired. I raced to her side, threw her arms in the air because of her weakness she couldn't cooperate. I glanced around to see what could've caused her to be in this position, I didn't see anything. I cried for help, but no one answered. As I sat in the doorway gasping for air from crying so heavily, my mother is desperate for her body to function. As I held her hand tight I felt her grasp loosening. Together we blinked and I felt her shoulder blade begin to dig into my inner thigh. She struggled to lift her hand so that it touched the right side of my face. She attempted to wipe the tears from my face, but I was crying so much that she couldn't stop the rainstorm coming from my eyes. I looked into her eyes and said "I love you mommy."

"I love you too," she replied.

Her big brown eyes began to slowly close and I saw her lips coming together as her last breath blew across my face. I screamed, shouted, yelled for her to wake up, but nothing worked. I thought about what had happened to her and I was really confused.

I was sitting on the floor with my mother in my arms, gone forever. I looked at her and thought about what my future was going to be like. Who was I going to live with? What was I going to do for the rest of my life? The paramedics barged in the door and took her away from me. I ran up the stairs straight to my bed and cried. I began to realize that she was really gone. What am I going to do? I'm just a little girl. My mind starts to race and things go through my head. Am I going to be in a foster home? Are my siblings going to stay with me? Where is my father? What happened to my mother?

What I remember after my mother's traumatic death is waking up in a car filled with garbage bags. I looked around and noticed my older sister driving and my father next to me. I peered out the window and saw a sign that read, "Welcome to Rhode Island."

I knew that we were far away from my hometown and it was time to start a new life here. As time passed I enrolled in elementary school and began to continue on with my life. I lived with six other siblings one whom is the caregiver of me. My father didn't have much support in Rhode Island so he moved to New York. He visited on many of the holidays as well as birthdays and then one day I arrived home from school to a phone call. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was my father's number.

"Hi Dad," I said.

"It's Ali sis" he responded.

"Where's daddy?" There was a long pause.

"He's with Mommy now," he responded crying.

I then realized, I'm a breath away from victory. I knew that it was time to take deeper breaths, longer leaps, stretch my arms out farther, pick up my head, and just strive.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world
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