My history, is bad...
My mother took me from my father at age six, then my mother a few weeks later found a person I despised. The person was named Kyle, he was a druggie, My dad was no where to be found. My mother and Kyle ate most of the food. Mother thrown us on the street, and thus it became my job to feed my sister. My sister hung out with her friend as I stayed at my mother's home, when I wasn't supposed to be there. Her friends were men,women,and rapists, along convicts... Plenty of fights pursued, but I survive. I also have dealt with gangs...I had ran the streets sad and pained, but strong. I get told by people they feel sorry, but it makes me aggravated. I then moved to my now deceased grandfather's home...wasn't a home but a damn rv... I then was being threatened by my grandfather,uncle, and my aunt, that they would send me away...which wasn't new.. but I ended up being a slave to my sister... We moved again but with my grandmother, there I found my father...It wasn't good, he would work all night and left again one night...again alone with my sister and my grandmother..but for good...I never hear from my father...My mother has found a good man now, they call him "chuckie"...Yeah like the haunted doll. He treats her well...though she has forgotten about us...The only two people I have looking for me is my grandmother and sister, I continue to fight only to protect my sister and grandmother...If someone killed them, then I would have no one..but my friends..Only a few know where I live and what I do to survive....Very few...Don't feel sorry, for I am strong, I'm just another example of a strong generation.
