Biography of a Teen

It came to me when I was just glancing over other stories posted on this site the idea. Why don't I take fictional lives of teenagers close to our ages, and share each of their stories individually. I thought it was a good Idea so I'm going to see how well it goes over. If I get the ratings and comments I'll continue with a different person next time. I'm just tired of my work being overlooked on this site. Anyways. The biography of a teen

Mya Williams

17 years old.

You can say that a fairytale comes true. Dreams as a child, I'm going to be rich, and go to the moon, and become president. One after another each and every single one of those hopes and dreams were crushed, left in the dust, destroyed. My name is Mya Williams, and I live with my mother on the streets of Chicago.

How I got here I honestly don't think there is a possible reason. Ever since my mother and father seperated when I was young it just became a downward spiral of my mom that I just so happened to be caught in the middle of.

I was around maybe 10 years old, we may not have had the most spectacular and glorious life but it was life and I miss it more then ever now. We had a house, a small one but a house nonetheless. A dog, a tv, and two fucked up parents constantly fighting. The sun had already gone and the moon took its usual place high in the sky. I was tucked away and suppose to be asleep. The heat in my room became uncomforting so I stripped myself of the bedsheets and got out to complain. I knew my parents were awake since I heard mumbling a few minutes before. It was silent though when I left the room. The hall was brightly lit and I could make out the faint glow of the tv just a few yards away. I began to take small steps towards the living room, scared to make a noise so I wouldn't disturb the silence. The dog lay near its food bowl right against the wall, I bent down to pet it and its eyes jolted awake. It growled at me, but quickly realized I wasn't a stranger.The talking from the living began again, I could decipher some of the words they were saying but no way I could construct any sentences with it. I peeked around the edge of the corner of the wall and could see my mother. Her face was puffy and red. Eyes filled with tears and she was glaring at my dad. He sat there drinking not taking any notice to his distraught wife sitting a few feet away. I almost walked in there to see what was going on, when low voices escalated to all out screaming.

"You worthless piece of shit!" my mother was standing by now within inches of my dad still sitting there.

"I'm worthless?" he was talking low still. "Without me where would you be Linda? Where would Mya be? You ungrateful little bitch, do you seriously not know how much I've done for this family?" I heard a loud crash and closed my eyes immediately. I was afraid to open them to see what happened.

"How dare you!" it was my dads voice. I looked again quickly just to see him standing right in my mothers face rubbing his cheek. A clear red handprint had began to form. "You get out! get out now! I've put up with you, and your white trash ass too long! Take Mya, take the dog I don't even care just get the fuck out of my house! I'm absolutely done!"

"Where are we suppose to go?!" mother seemed almost as stunned as me. My confusion and curiousity started to overwhelm me. What exactly had taken place before I got out of bed. I've seen them fight a lot before but what had pushed it this far?

"You know Linda I honestly couldn't give a shit if you lived or died!" the words hit me like a slap in the face. Could the man I had looked up to for years now seriously be saying this to my mother? "You've been nothing but trouble to me and I'm fucking through! You have two minutes to grab Mya and get the fuck out!"

"Robert! Robert please!" she had fallen to her knee's her sobbing was hysterical. "I still love you, we can make this work!"

"Are you serious now?" his sarcastic tone was driving me insane. "You get your coke whore ass out of my fucking house! I mean now!"

Slowly my mom rose to her feet, retreating to the hall to grab me. Once she turned the corner realizing I had heard everything of what was going on her facial expression was nothing but shock. Tears slowly raced down the sides of her cheeks and from what I could tell it seemed as if she had been crying for hours.

"Come on honey, we're going on vacation." my mom told me

"A permanent one." and those were the last words I ever heard my father speak. I never saw his face again.

There's several main chapters to my story. Getting kicked out was just the beginning. My mom had a lot of baggage I wasn't aware of. Just until I was old enough that I was forced to take my fathers place. A caretaker of my mother and her uncontrollable drug addiction.

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The wind blew harsher then ever it seemed as I huddled next to my fragile looking mother searching for any body heat to keep myself hopeful that we'll make it through the night. I know it was just the cold but every night I spent in this all too familiar alley seemed like a night closer to my death. A life not lived to its full potential over. Mom had somehow managed to drift off to sleep.She had taken a turn for the worse when she got layed off her most recent job waitressing at the diner a few blocks away. Her cheeks began to sink in from the drug relapse. I also noticed her nerves began to become more and more jumpy from day to day. My mother Linda was a drug addict. Us being forced to survive on the streets, and leftovers people would throw in the dumpsters was the because of my mother's small paycheck being devoted to her scumbag dealer, Mitch. It started off small, she was just messing around with pot, no big deal right? Then Mitch began to show her the 'good stuff' as he introduced it as. Clearly my mother knew he was talking about cocaine but I don't know if she was just experimenting or if it helped her take her mind off the current hardships. But either way she not only fucked up her life, she fucked up mine as well. I didn't go to school, which leads to me not having a single friend. I live off the companionship of my mother and her secret stash of 'momma's little helper' how pathetic. So now everyday is me constantly watching over her, making sure she's eating what we do have, and me picking up spare cans around the area we live. My feelings towards my mother over the next few years since we left my dad had grown harsher. I began to no longer pity her but loathe her. How could she do this to not only herself but me? It was heartbreaking, a neverending feeling too.

It was around 2 in the morning I was walking around while my mother slept, and I was looking for cans. I use to be fearful of chicago at this time but I had quickly grown use to it, and I was extremely familiar with the area. The wind blew hard against my hair making dark black strands of it flow rapidly around my pale face. I stopped for a minute and watched two other homeless people walking the same direction I was. Two older men one african- american and the other white. A younger guy probably around 25 was getting out of his car walking to his apartment building. The older men had caught up to him and I could tell they were immediately begging the professional looking man. A quick rejection flew their way too as he turned and attempted to go up the steps before the white man grabbed his jacket pulling him back down

"You leave me alone!" the man shouted as he tried to push the guy off.

The other male grabbed the guys other arm and started to wrestle him to the ground. It was a long struggle and all I could do was stare. It became a quick process, they mugged the man and stabbed him to death leaving him on the sidewalk. I turned around quickly and ran as fast as I could back to my mother. Once there I just grabbed her and laid next to her, wishing I never witnessed any of that. No one should ever have to witness a murder, especially a teenage girl. I drifted off into a deep sleep not daring to wake until morning.

Sirens erupted through the alleys and I wasn't suprised to hear it was all about the murder. Cops were swarmed everywhere as I dragged my mother out to see all the commotion. Immediately after emerging one of the police officers noticed us and asked if he could question us. My mother immediately went on the defensive and that became her first mistake.

"I didn't commit no murder! and I don't have time for no questioning!" she began to push past the cop before he stopped her.

"That wasn't a question ma'am I need to speak with you and your daughter"

"Leave me the hell alone! Mya come on, leave this man!" she tried to pull away from him then pushed him back.

"You need to come with me." quickly he wrestled her and put her in cuffs.

That was the start of my mom's soon to be new life. She was taken in to questioning and soon drug-tested. Realizing she had possesed illegal drugs inside her, she was taken to court. My mother was convicted and thrown in jail.

Here I stand now a 17 year old girl, no mom or dad, taken into custody thrown in a school for Juveniles. RSTT (Rehabilitation School for Troubled Teens) no its not just for kids with drugs its for any teen who just can't stand on their own two feet. I guess I fall into that category. My name is Mya Christine Williams and I was homeless for 7 years.