I would think it was the end of the world when my barbies’ head would come off or when my older sister would hide my toys so I wouldn’t be able to play. I knew that as long as I followed my mother's rules and I had my toys close to me that my nights would be complete. When I was younger I used to be in my own little world with my babydolls and the loud music my sister used to play in her room. My mom stayed in her dungeon and read the bible until she got tired. All three of us lived a simple life but we were surrounded by a lot of threats. Day and night we heard yelling and shootings but every time we peeped outside our window, the police were already there. At one point, my mother obligated me to read the bible with her and I wouldn’t lay down until it was midnight. I would fall asleep to her prayers; she would mumble every night and her tears dropped on the hardwood floor at two o’clock in the morning. I asked myself that first night I heard her pray and cry, why was everyone always in a bad mood? Why couldn’t everyone just be happy like I was, when I played with my toys? I truly did wish I had a dollhouse just like the house I was living in, but I would have never wished for the events that occurred in my life to happen to my barbie dolls. It was a loss of innocence and a hit of reality.
Different nights of horrors was what I experienced. I was around the age of 8 years old when I lived in a house full of either religious people or a party crowd. My mom owned the house we were living in on Scranton and there were two more floors upstairs for people to move into, which my mom also owned. We heard everything that happened upstairs. We heard the drunks abusing their wives, the babies crying all night, and  the doors closing shut out of anger. I use to ask my mom what would go on and if it sounded like something bad was happening, she would be the brave one to go upstairs and check if everything was okay.
I cried every time my mother would go upstairs to make sure everyone was safe because I thought something bad would happen to her. I always crossed my fingers and prayed to God when she would leave me in her room and my older sister would be sleeping having no clue what my mom would do at night.  I honestly never thought I would pray to God because I didn’t even know who he was. Eventually, my mom told the people upstairs that if they continue to disturb the peace and silence every night, that she would kick them out. The first few weeks were quiet and odd but peaceful. It wasn’t until I opened my eyes with my heart beating really fast to the sound of a shooting and yelling that was occurring upstairs. My mom jumped out of bed and quickly put her robe on. She told me to stay silent, go to my sisters room and hide. I was trembling in fear and did what I was told. I looked back and saw my mom with a bat, and a small video camera that she had on her robe that no one could possibly see unless you knew what it was.  When I went to my sister, Alma’s, room, she was standing there already crying. We both went inside her closet and hid between her clothes. She hugged me so tight and told me she loved me. I cried a lot because I didn’t know what she meant by that. I didn’t know if my mom was safe or if were going to survive. My thoughts were going crazy. It wasn’t until 2 hours later that we heard silence. All of a sudden we heard footsteps coming down to our floor. My sister and I thought it was the end for both of us until my mom opened the closet door and began to cry and hug us tightly. We didn’t want to let go, my moms arms wrapped around me, was all I needed.
She explained how a gang had gone upstairs and shot a guy because he owed them money. When she went upstairs, they told her that if she tells anyone about what she seen, then they would kill her also. My mom was afraid but she told them to leave and never come back. The gang left and took a bag of money that the guy had hidden under his bed. When the police arrived, she gave them the little video recorder that was attached to her rob and they were thankful for it. My mom had to clean up the upstairs and get rid of all the guys stuff because no family member of his ever came after the incident. When I went upstairs with my mom, it was empty. I wondered how it looked when the guy was on floor with blood, dead.
A month later after the whole incident, my mom decided to let people that weren’t so crazy, move in upstairs. They were religious people and very peaceful. It was the two eldest twins, one of the twins husband, their two year old daughter, and the twins mom. One of the twins that were married was 8 months pregnant when she moved in. She eventually had her daughter and her husband was working full-time. When her husband had his days off, he would go to church with his family and take them out to eat. They were the perfect example of a happy and passionate family. The twins mother was always talking about her daughters and granddaughters. There was always something exciting she would tell us everytime she came downstairs to visit.
As the days passed everything seemed perfect with that family, my family continued to watch movies together and talk about whatever came to mind. It was 10 o’clock at night that my mom,my older sister, and I had finished our movie. It wasn’t until we heard gunshots. It was about 3 bullets. Loud and all of a sudden it became silent. We all jumped and tried to look outside our window to see what happened. My mom called the police not knowing exactly where the shooting occurred but she did know it was near us. After she made the phone call, we hear a guy yelling, “Lesbie, it’s me, open the door please!” My mom told us to hide and she ran to the door. It was the twins husband, he had the two babies and was breathing heavily with tears going down his face. My sister and I stood next to my mom as my mom was trying to calm him down. “He shot her, please take care of my daughters. Keep them safe.” Those were the words that stuck in my mind till this day. The gun shots that we heard was from a guy that had shot one of the twins. As the robber was trying to leave, the twin was walking in to buy some powdered milk for her newborn, it wasn’t until the robber bumped into her and shot her 3 times thinking she was a threat. My sister took the two girls and my mom was trying to comfort the twins mother. The other twin was with her sisters husband. I watched the poor old mom weep on the floor asking why God would do that to her. My mom had no words and was weeping with her. My older sister put the girls to sleep and I just watched. I went to the bathroom and cried. I couldn’t do anything but pray to God.
It was the end of the view of my world after those two incidents. I use to think happiness was all about the fun and games but I learned that you find happiness through comfort and company. At a young age, I learned how to take things the way they were without blaming God.  I eventually grew into my faith through my curiosity. I no longer thought that everything ended with a happy ending, but my judgement on life remains silent. As my prayers continue and my”once upon a time” moments hit, I realize that as long as I continued to follow my mother's rules and remember the good things about life, I will someday see the change I would like to see.