You wake up. Your rooms dark. Probably from the fact that your keeping your curtains shut; not from fear of sunlight but from the fact you were supposed to wake up for school 45 minutes ago. Your bed sheets are disheveled from all the tossing and turning during the night. You know it's almost impossible to get comfortable when your bed springs are inches away from stabbing your back but your lack of motivation prevents you from doing anything about it. When you eventually awaken, you drag yourself to the mirror. Your hairs matted. Your teeth are gruesome. Your face has the look of someone who's given up. You take closer look into the mirror and you realize something that wasn't so clear before but is as transparent as it ever was. Your falling. You don't know why. Wait, why lie to yourself? You know why. It's been 3 months to the day since dad left us. Mom puts on that "everything's ok" smile to protect the sanity of me and my brother. Alex, my brother, pretends like it doesn't bother him by acting out in school but whose he kidding. He feels abandoned and alone. And then there's you. The oldest. The newly appointed matriarch of this household but your young. How do they expect you to be the man? Your just a kid. A kid whose stuck in a ditch and you can't get out. It only gets deeper as you continue the grieving process but no one can blame you. Everything changes when you lose your stability. Everyone thinks your doing great but you know the truth. Your falling.