i don't know if i want to have this paragraph here or not but i think for now it's necessary. this is the moral of my story. my family from the beginnning has always been a complete enigma in most cases. we fight, we cry, we ruin most events for each other (a lot of sundays have not been as wonderfully uplifting and God filled as they should've been). we do laugh and make nice memories at times but those memories aren't the ones i think of when i think of my family. i think of how many times i've cried myself to sleep because of them. i think of throwing a wooden spoon at my sister, threatening her with a knife, and having not only screaming but also kicking matches. i think of how many times our family has come close to falling completely apart because of how sick we are of trying to make things work. this picture is my representation of that. mom and dad fight constantly, sarah and ryan are at their wits end dealing with it all when all they want to do is leave, and, as always, i'm left in the center of it all being crushed by the weight of our situation. i'm not going to sugar coat it. this is my life. everything is not as it seems.