The train station was loud and smelled like oil burning in the air, the heavy smoke was slowly causing my lungs to squeeze together, leaving me little room to breath. I gripped on to my mothers hand and stared at the tears falling from her face. My four older brothers sat on a old worn out bench, their faces wiped from emotions and heads staring at their feet swinging back and forth. My little sister was fast asleep in her stroller with no awareness for what was about to happen. I remember that day vividly; my life was about to change forever and I had no choice but to become a big girl.

It was a Saturday morning and it was suppose to be the best morning ever. I was the first one to rise in the morning and eager to head downstairs, grab my breaky and watch my favorite cartoons. At the age of 5, I stood no higher than three feet tall, my hair dark with a full set of ringlets, big brown eyes and an attitude that always got me in trouble. My dad always called me Katerina but my name is Cathy with a C.

I entered the kitchen and waited for my cheerful “Good Morning Sunshine”. My mother and father were sitting at the kitchen table in silence. A strange feeling of emptiness overwhelmed me. There was no good morning sunshine, no cereal waiting for me at the kitchen table and no one was talking. I knew something was definitely wrong but all I could think about was my brothers beating me to the tv. Once they were up I knew there was no way I would get to watch my cartoons. After a few long minutes of waiting for someone to notice me, I became fearless and I was ready to break the one rule I knew would get their attention.

It was time I spoke before I was spoken too. As nervous as I was I decided my stomach was hungry and I wanted my breakfast. So, with out a second thought I tapped my mother on the shoulder gently, “Mom?” I asked quietly. “Can I fix myself a bowl of cereal?” I was sure my mother just forgot and would leap from her chair to fix me a bowl. Instead she turned my little frail hungry body toward the towering cupboards, “I bet your a big enough girl to get a bowl of cereal yourself”. She said with confidence.

At first I was ready to flea from the kitchen and seek some comfort from my youngest of my 4 older brothers ,Timmy. We were 15 months apart but he was shorter then me. He had a full set of dark black curls and two eye teeth that stood out like Dracula. His eyes were dark brown and eyebrows as bushy as a white browed wag tailed penguin. Timmy always made me laugh and I felt safe when I was with him. We both shared a lot of the same interests, such as tv shows, collectables and games. There was only one thing holding me back from going to his room…

The thought of becoming a big girl was too tempting to turn down. I grabbed a huge heavy wooden chair from the old kitchen table and dragged it across the floor. Then I stood up on the chair already feeling proud that I knew what I was doing. My tiny little fingers reached as far back as they could and finally I had my hand on the cereal box. Not knowing which cereal I reached for I anxiously pulled down the big box of corn flakes. I was heavily disappointed to see that big red rooster on the box. There were never any surprises waiting at the bottom of a box of corn flakes. Instead of complaining I knew this time I should be grateful that at least my tummy was going to get food.

Just as I was getting down from the chair my older brother stormed in the kitchen. “Mom, are you not watching what Cathy’s doing?” My older brother Kenny always tried to get me in trouble but this time I knew my mother had my back. “Mom said I could”. I stared up at his fiery red afro like hair. Kenny was exceptionally tall for a 11 year old boy and his skin was as pale as snow. He always took on the father role even when my dad was present. Suddenly something caught his eye on the table and he no longer cared about what I was doing.

“What are these?”, he said will picking up a pile of tickets off the table. My mother quickly swiped them from his hand, “That is none of your business”, My mother spoke in a very stern voice. As much as I loved to see Kenny get in trouble, my alarm bells were ringing. My mother rarely ever got upset with Kenny. He apologized and sat at the table with both my mom and dad. “Kenny”, “go upstairs and wake up your brothers.” My mother clearly did not want him at the kitchen table.

Just then Lloyd walked in the Kitchen, my dad zoned in on him. For some reason my dad always found a reason to pick on my second oldest brother Lloyd. Lloyd was 9 years old and stood about 4 and half feet tall, his hair a chest nut brown, wavey with highlights of red in the sunlight. He was the only one that needed glasses and had several freckles on his face and arms. Lloyd was always quiet but he had no problems making friends.

He stood in the entrance way of the kitchen, staring at the table. My dad immediately stood up but this time his voice was different. “Well are you going to stand there all day” my dad spoke but this time his voice was low and gentle. Lloyd looked scared but decided to pass the kitchen table and headed straight to the big box of cornflakes I left on the counter. I knew my cartoons were about to end because Lloyd ruled the Tv. Instead of arguing, it was the one morning I knew to behave.

I decided it was time for my little sister Sandy to get out of bed. She was the baby of the family and I rarely enjoyed spending time with her. She was only 3 years old and demanded my mothers constant attention. Sandy had very thin strawberry red hair, and pudgy cheeks that even I could not resist a pinch or two. Today was one day I had my little sis to play with and I needed her company badly.

As I was walking up the old wooden stairs my brother Pat came running past me, almost knocking me down the stairs. Pat had a mean temper and was always hyper. I knew better than to argue with him. However even with that mean temper I knew deep down he really cared for me. “Ouch, oh my god my knee” I made sure to squeeze some good tears. Pat stopped in his tracks and immediately came to my aid. “Come on lil buddy your tougher than that”. It’s like he knew I was faking. I wiped my tears and he gave me a big hug. I really needed that hug and was not about to let go anytime too soon. The morning started to feel lively but not in a good way. My brothers were getting loud and my mother was not having any of it. Suddenly out of no where my mother shouted, “Dam it, all you kids get upstairs now”! She meant business and my brothers knew not to talk back..

I entered my room and saw Sandy still fast asleep with no clue that the house was tumbling down like a ton of bricks. We shared one bed because our room was too tiny for two beds. Our room was nothing special, lots of paint peeling off the wall and our window was so old it would not shut properly. It was raining heavily outside and the rain was dripping down my wall and onto the floor. My mother was so distracted she forgot to put a towel in the window to block the rain. I grabbed an old used towel and blocked the open gap as best as I could. Then I looked towards my sister still fast asleep.

I needed some entertainment and she was about to wake up, like it or not. I pulled her favorite pink fluffy blanket of of her and screamed “Time to wakey wakey”.! Sandy started crying and calling for my mother. I quickly covered her mouth, “Sorry, sorry” . “Don’t call mom ok”, my voice went in panic mode. I reached behind me and grabbed my favorite Barbie. “Look I said you can play with Tiff, her big brown eyes lit up and she jumped out of bed.

The morning was almost over and we could still hear our parents arguing. Sandy and I played house with our barbies and pretended barbie and ken were fighting. It was fun until my brothers started taunting us. It was obvious they were getting bored. Timmy and Pat started picking up our barbies and popping the heads off. “Look Timmy said, “It’s Mary Popheads”. He was funny and no matter how hard I tried to get mad, they both tag teamed us with their humor. We were all laughing when Kenny walked in the room. “Ok, guys, that’s enough”! Just as I was about to give him a piece of my mind I heard the creaks on the stairs. I knew it was my mother and we all stood in silence anticipating what she was about to do next.

She entered my room and by now we were altogether hoping for any kind of good news. The fighting stopped but what were those tickets for? We were all nervously waiting to hear what my mother had to say. She was holding the stack of tickets in her hand. She sat on my bed and opened her arms to invite us all in for a huddle. “I’m sure by now you older boys know what’s about to happen.” Pat started yelling before she got to finish her sentence, “I’m staying with dad and you can’t force me to leave”, he was ready to storm out the door. Just as he turned to exit, my dad appeared at the door with his hand on his belt.

Kenny was the spitting image of my dad but much younger. My dad was always drunk and slurring his words. For some reason Pat looked up to my dad and he never spoke back to him. He reached for his belt and stared down at Pat. “Your going to do as your told and sit your ass down”. He continued to speak but it was hard to understand what he was saying. His speech was slurred and he kept repeating himself. Finally my mother put her hands on his shoulder, “I got this Fred” ,that was my dads name. My dad looked up and grabbed my mothers hand, “ok Hazel” he said to my mother, then he turned to Pat, “You better listen to what your mother has to say”, as he left the room he slowly closed the door behind him.

After the air cooled and Pat decided he was not given a choice, he sat with his arms crossed, still fuming inside. It was a long discussion but we all knew one thing for sure, we were moving and my dad was not coming with us. It was a crying festival at first until Pat decided he was going to change the atmosphere in the room. He stood up and started make the sound of a train., “Choo, Choo, all aboard” our emotions quickly changed from sadness to excitement. We were about to experience our very first train ride. All the boys finally left my room and started running around the house pretending to be the conductor of the train.

Sandy and I watched my mother pack our things and bombarded her with one question after the next. We wanted to know everything about where we were going and the train ride. She did her best to sound excited but I knew she was scared and hurting inside. I felt my heart pop out of my chest and tears began to roll down my cheeks. “Mom” I asked in a very soft voice, “Yes Sweety” She responded, “Are you scared”? I asked. She pulled me in for a big hug and my sister managed to find a way to squeeze in too. I wrapped my arms around them both feeling like the protector. There was an odd silence and nothing more was said until the packing was all done.

My mother called the boys to help with the luggage but I quickly grabbed my suit case. “I can carry my own mom”, I spoke proudly and eager to show that I’m a big girl now. One by one the suit cases were loaded in my dads car. My four brothers squeezed in the large old clunker. It was a second hand Ford, Fairlane 500 but with 6 kids there was little room. My mother had my sister on her lap in the front seat and I sat in the middle. My brothers managed after a good ten minutes of fighting to settle in the back.

I was on my knees looking over the seat of the car watching my brothers expression as we drove away. One by one their heads turned to look out the back window until our home was no longer in site. It was a very long quiet drive. All I could do was think of ways to stop crying so I could be strong for my mother.