All stories have a beginning. My story started on May 27, 1983. In the greatest city on this fine earth. Boston Massachusetts. Obviously I do not remember this time. Hell I was just born. So let’s skip ahead some years to my very first memory.
I was at my grandparents. With my dad. Watching the Wizard of oz. and they kept saying we had to leave we were going to be late. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just finish the movie. But it was because I was just on a visit and had to go back to my moms. Then later that week....
I remember being hungry. So very very hungry. My sister. Well she is my half sister. We have different dads. She was at school and she was the one who took care of me most. I tried waking my mother who was in bed with no clothes on with some guy I never met before. He also was not clothed. No matter how hard I tried she would not wake up. So I went in search of food. I was about 4 years old. There was almost no food. And most of what we had was cans. And I didn’t know how to open cans. So I kept on my search. Finally I found some oatmeal. This is easy I thought. All I needed was water. So I put some oatmeal in a plastic bowl with water and turned on the stove.
Oh no!
Instant flames. And the dish towel was on fire. And the house was a horrible mess with things just piled up everywhere. Fire was quickly spreading. And I still couldn’t wake my mother. So I went on the front porch. Luckily my neighbor came down and called 911 and also put some clothes on me because I wasn’t wearing anything but underwear. Almost instantly the fire department and police came. I was so scared because I knew I had caused it. A very nice police man came and talked to me after he was in the house and I explained as well as I was able being so young what had happened. He must have picked up on my fear because he assured me the only one at fault was my mother.
The next thing I hear is my mother completely flipping out and acting crazy. She did this often so I was used to it. But then all of a sudden my mother and her friend are brought out in cuffs and I hear the cops talking about how much drugs there was and needles all over the house. I could have gotten into it they were saying. Then a strange lady came and was asking all kinds of questions. By now school was over and I knew this because there was kids walking around but no one had gone to get my sister. They tried putting me in a car and I kicked and screamed that I wanted my sister Danielle. Finally they went and got her. But we weren’t together for long. I was sent to my dads. Who was the complete opposite of my mother. At the time he lived with my grandparents so it was fun to me. My sister was sent to her Aunt Joan’s. Well I guess she was my Aunt too. But even at that young I didn’t feel like I was apart of my mothers side of the family. This is when our lives, all of us. Changed dramatically.
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