My name is James, and I don’t know why my parents got divorced. After all I’m only seven. But my sister is five, and I know a lot more than her. I know that everything was good in my family. And then it wasn’t. My parents never yelled at each other. Until one night I woke up and heard them yelling in the basement. I couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but it didn’t sound nice. It scared me. I don’t like yelling. It was hot that night, and I was wearing my Darth Vader pajamas. Darth Vader is a very bad guy most of the time. I climbed down from my bunk bed and found my Nerf fighter rifle and I held it in my arms tightly. I would protect myself with it. I would protect my mom. I would protect my dad. Yelling is scary when adults do it.
So my parents yelled at each other, and then my dad left. Everyone asks me how I feel. I sort of wish they would stop asking me because it makes me remember that I feel sad. It’s sort of my fault because I never told my parents that I heard them fighting that time. I should have told them that I don’t like yelling. Because then they would have stopped. And if they stopped yelling that night, they wouldn’t have to get divorced. I should have stopped it all. And then my mom and my dad would come together to my soccer games on Saturdays, and they would cheer together. And Santa would only have to come to one house. And then I would be like all of my best friends. A kid from a normal, whole family.
I hate divorce. My mom says, “Please don’t use the word ‘hate’ because it’s a very strong word. But I use it anyway because I feel strongly that I hate divorce.” I don’t understand why my parents got divorced, and no one will tell me why. They act like I’m a baby. I want to know. And I want them to get back together. Maybe this will happen someday and we’ll all be a happy family again? But my mom says she’s really sorry but this can’t happen. But me and Lucy think it might. Miracles happen all the time.
My name is Lucy, and my parents are divorced. I love my mom and I love my dad. My favorite American Girl is Julie because her parents are divorced too. I read all the Julie books, and I want the Julie doll but my mom says I have enough American Girl dolls. Maybe I can ask my dad for it. I don’t really remember when my dad lived here with us. I wonder if he would buy me American Girl Julie pajamas? Or the American Girl doll bed? My friend Lulu has the bed, and it’s really cool.
We are going to move to a new house sometime soon, and I will finally finally get my own room. It’s a pain sharing my room with a boy. I can’t put up any more pink stuff, and he leaves Star Wars Legos all over the place. It hurts when you step on Star Wars Legos! My brother says he wants to move because this house reminds him of how happy we were when we were one big happy family. But I want to move because I can get my own room and paint the walls whatever color I want.