The endless story of a homeless teen

Our mom married our dad right out of high school. They were madly in love and it lasted contrary to their parents beliefs. They had me two years after. I was twelve when my mom got pregnant with my little sister and when my dad was sent out to Iraq. He was apart of the marines. When we received notice that my dad was killed in a road side bombing my mom broke down. She wasn't the same after that. She swore my dad was still alive and that he was coming home. I'd come home from school and she'd tell me that he 'called' and that he missed us. It drove her insane. I remember one time she had put a brown shoe in the oven. I came home to the smoke alarm going off and smoke coming from the kitchen. My mom just took the burnt shoe out of the oven and told me she made a baked potato. When my little sister was born my mom suffered from postpartum depression and wouldn't even go near her. I had to take care of her and my mom. By my sister was three my mom wouldn't even come out of her bedroom. She became lifeless until she started drinking. After that she would leave her room, dress herself, and shower but she still wasn't the same. She started spending all our money on booze. She would be drunk when I left to go to school and drop my sister off at daycare. She'd be drunk when I got home from school. She wasn't a mean drunk. She was the kind of drunk that would just sit there completely out of it. Laughing at what she thought was funny but only that. Kind of ditsy. Eventually we went from a nice house to a nice apartment to a one bedroom one bath apartment in an apartment complex that resembled a motel. Several times I tried to take her alcohol from her like she was a child but she'd start to cry and throw a fit. I couldn't take the fact that my mom was acting like my little sister so I gave her what she wanted. She drank us to the streets. I didn't know what was worse. Her insanity or her drunken state.