Is there a place you call a second home? Vol. 1

Note: This entry references The Freedom Writer's Diary an inspiring book written by teenagers in situations very similar to our own and their reading teacher Erin Gruwell.

I had a place like a second home a while ago when I was a freshman. I used to fight with my step-dad a lot. He African-American, built like a pro-boxer, smokes blacks, drinks when he can’t handle anything, but worst of all he’s a drug-addict.

My mom is a gorgeous woman with short brown wavy hair and beautiful brown eyes. She’s also the strongest, most adventurous person I know. She’s a Christian woman who gave anyone a chance no matter what they looked like or where they came from. This included her drug-addict of a husband. My mom met him at our old church: ----------. When he started dating my mom, he was nice and took care of my family as if we were his, until they got married. Then he was always yelling at me and my little brother when things didn’t go his way. I only took his accusations and drama because my mother loved him.

My mom thought she could help him with his drug problem, which she knew about since they were dating. My mom and I began to grow distant as he tore our family apart. When we fought, I’d leave and just go to my second home, to my second mother who didn’t have a horrible drug-addict of a husband. She’s as gorgeous as my mother is in her own way. She had long blond hair, pretty brown eyes, and the patience of a fisherman. I was dating her son. We both loved each other at the time. He had shoulder length black hair with brown eyes, and he was a senior at ----------- high school.His mother always welcomed me with open arms.

Now my mom and I have the best relationship ever: she’s divorcing my step-dad. I still talk to my second mom from time to time. Her son is now studying to be a firefighter just like his god father. I understand how it feels to have people judge you just because of what you look like or where you come from. I may not know how it felt when the Freedom Writers went through what they did, but just like my second home was a place away from my problems, Ms.Gruwell's class was there second home away from home.