The Same Apartment, Very Different Lives

Our lives looked very different from so many points of view and yet we were in the same place. She grew up with strong parents. They had good paying jobs and took care of their family, were respected in the community, and taught their daughters ethics, morals, and values. Mine struggled to keep jobs, had drugs/alcohol problems, inappropriate sexual parties, and violence surrounded our family on a regular basis. She had two beautiful babies out of wedlock and struggled, despite her family upbringing. I watched the girls for her while I attended college and tried to get out of our neighborhood. We both heard the same stories about the people we knew being shot on the corner of our street, wounded and bleeding, never to be reported on by the news/media. We saw the girls we went to school with turn into prostitutes, thinking they were doing what was necessary to survive financially, losing all their innocence, desensitizing themselves, and all sense of who they truly are as a human. She would complain about those girls, and how much money they were making, while she struggled to pay the bills with her legit job. It didn’t seem fair to anyone. I continued going to school and got jobs that paid higher salary, I can only imagine how much she resented me as I left the area and lost contact with her. We lived in the same town, the same apartment, and walked out the same door every day to face the world. The difference for each of us was black and white. Can you guess who was who?

Published by kmwilkerson

I am single mother of a 15 year old special needs son. I turned away from the corporate world that was supporting us to be home more with my son and manage my own physical illnesses that crept up on us. Two years ago I decided to take up writing (which was something I loved doing as the younger me) and I just published my first book, with many more in the making. I strive to leave a legacy for my son that could assist in his unknown future once I am gone.

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