I'm a self-proclaimed disaster. I have a mom who hasn't stopped drinking since I was three. In a day I go through at least one pack of smokes. I haven't showered in three days because they shut off our water since my mom didn't pay the bill again (don't even ask about the toilet situation). Just when I thought life was at its worst, my mom abandoned me. The only in thing she left was a purple sticky note placed on the fridge with the word sorry written on it. I knew she had left to give herself a fresh start, and the only thing that surprised me was that she hadn't done it sooner.

She got pregnant with me when she was only sixteen. My father didn't even stick around until the third month of her pregnancy. She still went through with it though.

My mom did her best to do right by me – at least at first. There was an old woman who lived in the apartment across from us and she was always willing to babysit me during the day so my mom could work full time. She did her best to fill both the roles of the breadwinner and the caretaker. After a 9 hour shift, she would come home to cook me dinner and she was always there to tell me a story and kiss me goodnight at bedtime. But at some point it got to be too much for her. At first she just drank at home. Then she started to go out to nearby bars after she thought I was asleep. Some nights she didn't even bother coming home. She didn't want the responsibility of a child – she was barely an adult herself. You would think someone who despised motherhood so much would have been more cautious when it came to sex. But just as my existence proves my mother does not understand the concept of contraceptives, so does my little sister, Ophelia. Ophelia means help in Greek; that's what she needed with two kids and no solid income: help.

Even though Ophelia and I are only six years apart, I'm more of a mother to her than a sister. I didn't have the option to be anything but. My mom followed the same pattern with Ophelia as she had with me. She cleaned up her act at first – staying sober throughout the pregnancy and even for a couple years afterwards but the bottle grew in its appeal as each day passed, and eventually my mom was drawn in once again.

Needless to say, I can't say I found her abandonment of Lia and I much of a surprise. If I was surprised about anything it was that it hadn't happened sooner. But even though I was well prepared for my mother's ill-fated departure, I knew Lia wouldn't understand. She was only 10. And despite all our mother's misgivings, Lia was still young enough to love her unconditionally.

I knew I would have a few days before I had to tell Lia the truth. My mother's drinking and sex escapades sometimes lasted for a week straight before she'd bother to show up at our apartment. But Lia would realize her absence eventually and the truth would turn my idealistic little sister into just another cynic in one fell swoop.

The only consistent figure in my life is my best friend. He moved in an apartment down the hall from us with his dad just after Lia was born. He needed me just as much as I needed him. I was there to comfort him after his dad gave him a beating for no particular reason. He came over to my apartment to sleep whenever my mom didn't show so I could feel protected. He's not just my best friend; he's my family. And the best part about our relationship is we don't bullshit each other. It's 100% truth, 100% of the time.

Before Lia got home from school I walked across the hall, sticky note in hand. When he opened the door, I simply held up the purple note as evidence that she'd finally given up. He simply held out his arms and drew me close to his chest.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered as he placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.

I quickly withdrew my self from his hold. "Are you kidding me Julian? I'm 16! I'm 16, I have no job, my fucking mother stole all the money I did have, and I have a 10 year-old sister who now has to depend on me! And it's going to be okay? Not a chance in hell."

"Brooke, you've practically been raising Lia since she was born. You're more of a mother to her than anyone."

"My mom might not have done a whole hell of a lot for me and Lia, but she did manage to bring home some cash now and again. Our water's already been turned off. Next will be the electricity and before you know it, there will be an eviction notice on our door."

"I've got some money I can lend you. Or you and Lia can come move in with me. We'll figure it out Brooke," Julian said, softly rubbing his hand against my arm as an attempt to comfort me.

"I'm not some fucking charity case," I snapped, fumbling through my purse for my lighter. I really needed a cigarette right now.

"God you're so fucking stubborn," Julian yelled back, snatching the cigarette from between my fingers just before I was about to light it. "And if you're so concerned about being there for Lia, I suggest you stop smoking before you kill yourself."

Fed up (and desperate for a guilt-free nicotine fix), I started walking back to my apartment without another word. As I was walking away, Julian yelled at me once more.

"Why won't you ever let me in?"

And then he slammed his door.

The truth? I'm afraid he'll find me as disposable as my mother seems to.