On My 16th Birthday, My Mom Packed My Clothes Into A Garbage Bag And Locked Me Outside While Throwing My Phone Into The Street And Saying “Plan’s Cancelled, Figure It Out,” My Dad Sold My Car Saying “The Title Was Already In My Name,” My Sister Stood In My Old Room And Waved Saying “Finally Got My Space,” They Cut Off My Insurance And Took All My College Savings, I Slept At A Bus Station For Weeks… Up To 30 Days… Then They Began Calling Me 35 Times Every Day, And Now They’re The Ones Living In Fear.
The first call came while I was sleeping under a broken vending machine light at the Greyhound station. My phone buzzed against my ribs, tucked inside the only hoodie I still owned. I opened my eyes to see Mom flashing on the cracked screen. Thirty days. That was how long it had been since my…
