To begin my story. My parents were 13 (mom) and 16 (dad) when they fell into a relationship. I cannot say it was love because it wasn't. They were dumb teenagers who didn't know anything. They made foolish choices, which lead to me. I was born on June 27th, 2000, a blonde baby girl. They weren't ready for the consequences of their mistake. Nor were they prepared. It left them with only two choices. Adoption or keep me. They chose the best for them, which was putting my 1-year-old self up for adoption.
Soon after, they found me an adequate home. And so I moved 2,000 miles. I was young. I thought my life was amazing. I saw no wrong with anything that was going on. When I was about 2, I saw my (now) mom shoot something in her arm. What was is? I wasn't sure at such a young age. Now I know it was heroin. I knew my mother acted weird, but I thought it was just her personality.
I woke up one day, and I was so excited. It was my 4th birthday. I ran out of my room and straight to their bedroom. My mom got up and told me to shut up. She picked me up, walked me to my bedroom, and threw me on my bed. I must have hit my head because I remember sitting up, holding my head, and crying. She walked out and locked the door. I'm not sure how long I was in my room when I heard someone come in. I remember it sounded like a man. I heard lots of moving around in my mother's room, and I being so young I didn't know what was happening. Now I think they were having sex. (Mind you, she did have a husband). A few hours later, I heard the man leave, and my mom came and unlocked the door. She told me it was time to celebrate my birthday.
I got a piece of cake, and she put a candle in it. I blew it out. Later that night, she shot more heroin, actually she overdosed. Thankfully my dad was home and called the police.
After that, my mom wasn't in my life for a few months. She was in a program to get off the drugs. My dad was angry and lonely.
My father was pissed all the time. He used to go insane. One time I remember he smacked me because I asked him for milk. He was 100% not in the right mind at that time. He got better when my mom came back from rehab. I remember the day she came back. She was happy. That was the first time I had ever seen her that way. Everyone was better for a while.
Nothing much happened for a while after that. I mean that guy (his name was Andrew) came around often when my dad wasn't around. That wasn't a big deal until my dad found out. He found out when I was about 10. So I vividly remember what happened. My dad left for a meeting. He was going to be out for a few hours or so. My mother hugged him on the way out and watched him leave. The second he was out of sight, she called her boyfriend (?) to come over. He came over about 20 minutes after she called. At this point, my mother didn't seem to care that I knew about her cheating.
About 30 to 40 minutes into them fucking around, my dad came home. My mom and Andrew must have heard the garage door open because I heard rustling around from my parent's room. They weren't quick enough apparently because my dad walked in right when Andrew walked out. My dad weirdly didn't notice him and started to talk about why he was home early. In the middle of the sentence, my dad finally saw him. My father looked him up and down, then just stared into his eyes for a few seconds. The house was so quiet I could hear everyone breathing. Finally, my mom came out of their room. She said some bullshit excuse that I don't remember. In the middle of my mom's speaking, everything started to slow down for me. My dad looked at me, and I nodded. It's like he could read my mind that she was lying.
My dad walked up to Andrew, and he started yelling through his teeth. He told him to get out or else. Andrew stood his ground by not saying a word back. My dad hit him directly in the nose, making Andrew fall to the floor. Andrew tried to get up, but my dad kept hitting him and kicking him. Andrew's blood was splattered all around, and at that point, I looked away. I started to scream cry into my hands. I was terrified.
My dad went to jail after that day. Andrew almost died, so it made sense why he would press charges.
About six months later, my dad got out of jail. Things were pretty different since my parents were now divorced. The court didn't see my mother fit of being a parent, so I had to wait and live with my uncle while my father was in jail. Life was great at my uncle's house. However, I was happy to see my father since he was the only person who protected me.
My dad and I moved into an apartment in a different state. We tried to get far away from my mother since she was quite angry that she was never going to see me again. You would think I wouldn't miss such an awful woman, but I did. I did because I was naive and couldn't understand the shit she has put us through. I also missed her because my dad was distant. He didn't seem to want to see me or care for me in any way.
Eventually, at 13, I got sick and tired of being ignored. I began to act out a lot, but it started small. I would freak out on teachers and tried to find anything to escape. I soon noticed that made my dad distance himself even farther, so I did worse things. One night I snuck out with paint and eggs. I walked to an elementary school that was close by and just fucked it all up. I didn't see it as being a big deal at the moment, but then someone called the police. I saw a police car pull up, but I didn't think they would see me. Of course, I was wrong. I got arrested. To make this story shorter, I am now a felon. And at that point, my dad was so disappointed he basically disowned me.
I didn't think getting arrested was that big of a deal, and I liked the adrenaline rush. So I snuck out more often and made friends with not so great people. I believed I found my escape.
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