Atonement? I think not.

Sorry about that. I forgot to update because school was getting hectic. Anyway. Not that anyone reads this.

I turned 17 almost forgetting what my mother looked like, since it had been nearly 2 years since the Christmas morning she had packed all her clothes, thrown it in the back of her car and drove away with Don Moen blaring over the radio. I called up my father and he quickly came over and brought me and my sister to his house.

It took me three years to forget how cold my mother’s voice actually was. She called me up one Sunday afternoon, asking me to forgive her and welcome her back home. In tears, I dropped the phone on her. After a few days she was back home, unpacking.