Her slow shallow breathing constantly reminded me of the inevitable. She was gone—not temporally, she was alive, but her spirit, her livelihood, was gone. Death, for her, came before her last breath. Sitting there waiting, on edge, never knowing which breath would be her last. Granny awoke dazed, but with determination in her eyes. Granny dismissed my mother, asking to talk to me privately. My mother obeyed. Granny weakly rolled over in her hospital bed, reached over the railing, and picked up a box, a blue velvet box. She struggled to open it, but when she did, I was the one who was short of breath. A thin silver band, instilled with diamonds, led to a green emerald, square cut, framed by a small layer of diamonds—her wedding ring. She looked me in the eyes and said, “I want you to have this.” I was astonished by her gift. “Why would she give this to me?” I remember thinking to myself. Her explanation was simple. I have never forgotten these words. “I’m always here for you, even though you know I’m not around. Never give up.”

Back to reality. That was the past and this is now. A pang of guilt twists my stomach, but I immediately shun it away. I was sixteen when Granny gave me her gift, that was a year ago. So much has changed since then. But, for the better? Ha! I wish! Losing her was hard, but I forced myself to move on. Yeah, her ring still held its place on my finger, but I didn’t dwell on the fact that she’s gone, like my mom does. I came to the realization that we all cope with grief differently. That’s pretty obvious! For my mom, she went berserk and turned into a Nazi. “Bre, do this! Bre, could you do that for me? Bre, this needs to be done.” She went from an easy-going mom to one of those strict moms that made no exceptions to the rules. No exceptions, huh? Try again! I find exceptions—whether she likes it or not. I don’t get the point of her restrictions, so I just don’t follow them. When I don’t follow her crazy limitations, she issues a punishment. No, I don’t follow those either. She takes my phone, I buy my own. She takes my car, well, I have legs. I can’t let her win the argument. She can’t control me; I’ve made sure she knows that. This may be her sense of grief, but it’s gone too far. She needs to move on and realize Granny isn’t coming back.

It’s all I can do to get away from her. I can’t stand her rules, so I stay with friends. Sometimes I stay at school, but I don’t see the point of it. It’s easy, so why am I even there? The assignments they have us do are pointless and not worth doing. Daytime is a drone. After school, well that's when I go with friends. I specifically stay out of the house for as long as possible. I ride with friends to school (since my car is confiscated), sometimes sluff, then after school I usually stay with friends until nine o'clock. I come home, make dinner by myself (since mom decided to stop cooking for me), then go to bed.

My dad works graveyard shifts at the hospital every night. I hardly ever see him, which is fine by me; that means one less person to tell me no. My older brother, Kevin, is off to college, so I don't ever see him either. We talk a little, but I wouldn't say we have a tight sibling relationship. My younger sister, Sadie, is nine years old right now. She is a typical nine-year-old—tries to act like a grown up, yet still loves to watch Disney Channel. Sadie isn't necessarily an annoying sibling, like most younger ones are. Sometimes we butt heads, but that's what sisters do.

I used to work because my mom forced me to get the job. She told me I needed to learn responsibility and earn a steady income. This was also one of her crazy new rules: I must have a job. Well, hey I really didn't need a job that bad, so I just never went. Eventually, they dismissed me. My mom is pissed but she's the only reason I quit the job. She wanted me to have a job, so I said, "No." A sure case of teenage rebellion but I'm sick of being told what to do.

At about eleven o’clock, I come home to find my mom awake, sitting on the sofa wearing her usual "you're in trouble" type of look on her face. This time, the look was a little more solemn yet, at the same time, it was angrier. My mom always did the talking; dad was never home to even scold me. To try to dodge a lecture, I drop my backpack, take my shoes off, and say a quick, “Hi” to my parents, then rush downstairs. Before I get to the stairs, she calls my name. “BreAnn, come talk to me.” I could tell immediately by the look on her face that she means business.

“What?” I ask, intentionally, adding attitude to my voice. My mom takes a deep breath, sighs, and then begins. “BreAnn, you’re father and I are extremely disappointed in your behavior lately. Yes, I know there have been some changes, but all I asked of you was to be open to the new ideas…” I roll my eyes and immediately tune out the conversation. Been there, done that, heard it before! “You have so much potential. Look at your beautiful blue eyes, gorgeous long brown hair, unblemished skin, but it’s not only on the outside. You’re potential as my daughter is so great! You are smart! I know you are…blah blah blah” Her voice escalades as her anger builds, “…But you are out of control! I’m sick of trying to get you to behave! Listen to me, BreAnn! Don’t you dare ignore me! You’re skipping school, your grades are terrible, you are never home, and never listen! If you aren’t going to be a part of this family and abide by the rules of this house, you cannot live here anymore! So, as of right now, you are on your own. I’m not going to buy your food, pay for the insurance or your phone bill if you aren’t going to be a part of this family. You cannot be a part of this house anymore; you will pack your stuff tonight. Until, you can learn to live by our rules of this house, you are forbidden to come back. I’m officially done!”

“Fine! Consider me gone! I’m out! Screw you!” I stormed downstairs and ran into my room, shoved my closet door open, and fished out my black duffel from the back of my closet. All I did was pack my clothes, some money, a few knick-knacks here and there, zipped it up, and stormed out of the house—without even uttering a word of goodbye.
I don’t need them! So what if I’m homeless right now? At least I don’t have to follow her crazy rules. Do you know how great my life will be? I don’t have to sit through one of her lectures or deal with all her chores and limits. This is fantastic! Why hasn’t she kicked me out earlier? Finally, a little bit of freedom.