Dear Notebook, 

It's May, meaning there is much rain in Florida. Although it's called the "Sunshine State" when the summer begins it only means one thing, drip drip drip. But today wasn't like every day in May.

The wind was blowing the tree outside my window, meaning it kept tapping against the glass. My sister questions why it doesn't bother me, and why I don't sleep in the guest room so she can tell me about what her teacher said to her today without getting annoyed from the tapping. Because listening to your 5-year old sister rant about her annoying teacher who tells her that she should color her sun orange instead of yellow, is interesting. 

Since the tree was tapping, like it always does in May, I thought I should listen to the radio. One station actually had really good music, sure the lyrics are a bit much for an 8-year old but my parents never noticed. I pressed the 'radio' button and to my enjoyment, 'Cancer' by MCR came on. Ever since MCR broke up in 2013, I haven't heard much of them. So it was nice to hear them rather than the usual Imagine Dragons, Green Day, or Coldplay. But sometimes the occasional girl would request something more modern like Maroon 5 or the popular One Direction.

I lay on my bed, the fan blowing my long brown hair off my face while I was analyzing the deep and emotional lyrics, until the usually routine of May was disturbed by yelling. "You can't just do that shit and come home as if everything is okay!" I heard a familiar voice scream, my mother. "It wasn't my fault! And p-please calm down!" my father retorted with a voice only a bit softer than my mother's. "Calm down?! You are asking me, to CALM DOWN?!" my mother yelled getting louder until I heard a door slam shut.

May was one of my favorite months because of the rain, but not just the tapping or the refreshing smell of God's tears. But because the tapping would cancel out the yelling coming from my parent's room. I shut my eyes, tight, hoping tears wouldn't leak from the corners of them damaging their light green color. They were always loud, but never this loud. What exactly my father did that made my whole neighborhood hear my mother's scolding, was the only thing on my mind.

Knock knock knock. I was jolted out of my thoughts and tears as my door creaked open. In the doorway was my sweet little sister, Rosaline holding a small bear. The song ended with a final note of the piano and the man on the radio started talking about the 50 top songs listened to in 2015, until I turned the radio off. "I thought it would only happen once, then everything would be okay. But it's not-" she started but was cut off by a hiccup as she started to cry. "Sit," I told her simply and softly as I too started to cry. "Father did something bad, didn't he? Is that why Mother, doesn't love him anymore?" she inquired after she sat down next to me. "No Rosie, no, Mother still loves him, she is just upset. Everything is going to be fine." I whispered softly, my voice quivering. Because even I knew it was a lie, but she evened her breathing and sat in my arms as I hugged her. I sang softly in her ear, a song I sang to her whenever she came into my room to cry, which was much in the last year since the fighting started.

'And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket

But I've got to get a move on with my life

It's time to be a big girl now

And big girls don't cry'

I continued to sing to her until I could feel small breaths being taken through her nose against my neck making me shiver, and her chest rising and descending slowly. I slowly laid her body on my bed and made my way to sleep in her room when I stopped abruptly to a voice. "Amanda, can you stay with me?" Rosie asked with that sweet and innocent voice of hers, I just couldn't resist it. I turned around and laid next to her before she cuddled up to me and placed her head on my chest.

"Hey, Panda?" she asked.

"Yeah, Rosie?" I answered still half-asleep

"Bear says he likes your singing."

I smiled and then realized she probably was waiting for an answer since she couldn't see me grin. "Thank you Bear, that was very kind of you," I replied in a sorta mature voice. And with that, we both drifted off into slumber. Even though it was 5 in the afternoon.