ChangesI miss the way life used to be when I was only six. I played and napped all day, without worrying about an upcoming English paper or an annoying Spanish test. I was able to be who I really was: a quiet, independent girl- without being judged. The only money I even cared about was the colorful kind in the game of Monopoly; I just wanted to win. But now I worry about having enough money to eat; I just want to live. I used to get angry at Gramma when she wouldn't let me go outside. Now I get angry at her because she won't rest; she's so stubborn and weak. I used to cry and run to grandma when my sister would bully me. Yesterday, the three of us cried together at the destructive changes in our lives.Things used to be good. So that means they'll eventually get better again
right? I know it's hard, but I'll never lose hope.