We can’t afford it. We can’t afford it. I have heard these four words all my life. Going on a vacation on summer break? We can’t afford it. The dentist says you need braces? We can’t afford it. You are getting a once in a lifetime chance for your poetry to be published? We can’t afford it. You want to go to college so you can be successful and be able to support your kids, unlike us? Sorry, we can’t afford it. The anger boils and boils, but I can’t let it out.
All we have is the bare minimum of what we need. Just enough food to get us through, but not enough to keep us fully satisfied. Just barely enough space in our tiny house, because we can’t afford to move, despite the fact that there are six people in a house made for three.
My siblings and I work hard. We all get straight A’s on our report card. My brother and sister were both recently in plays, in which they both preformed very well. I recently ended my cross country season, where I worked and suffered, just to cross that finish line. But any type of reward for that, for any of those things? No.
But its not just the tangible things they can’t afford- sometimes it seems they cannot afford to be loving. A pat on the back, a congratulations, a “we’re so proud of you.” Don’t you think you might deserve those things, however simple they may be, after you ran 2 miles in 13 minutes? Or after you got up in front of dozens to preform a leading role? Well, tough. Instead, we get: “You could have run faster. And did I see you walking once?” or “And you almost stumbled on stage! So embarrassing!”
I need to start my own life, away from this horribly small, crappy , ugly one. I need to go out there and make my own destiny, I need to take control of my life and get out of this one so I can be happy. But I am only 13 years old. And I feel like I am suffocating.