my youth.

a lot of people say i can remember stuff from when i was really young but i can. i dont blame them either, i mean why can i remember things from that point in my life? like i remember reading and counting, watching cartoons, and being able to speak. i also remember the unsavory parts but hey it could have been worse. it can always be worse, that's why i try to look positively on most scenarios. 

one very memorable moment for me when I was younger, and my parents were still around. i was over at my mom's doing whatever. but i have this scar, and it happened to be from my brother. and I'm not upset with him he just grew up in a worse off position and couldn't cope with it. but on this day he was doing something with a knife in the windowsill of his bedroom. and when i came in i think he asked me to leave, but i didn't. i don't know if on accident or on purpose but he came at me with the knife and what did i do? i grabbed it. what happened after that, i assume he pulled away from me and the knife (in between my pointer and thumb) had cut the webbing in-between my fingers. i ended up going to the hospital crying, they were going to do the stitches while i was awake because they don't like to put people to sleep. but of course, i didn't let them. they put me under and (let me count them real quick..... ) i got 4 stitches. after that incident he did a few more less harmful things that i can remember. at the time I believe I was three.

now the reason i said while my parents were still around is because they aren't any more, and wouldn't you know it I'm still in my childhood. sure I'm not super young but I'm still a child. anyways... when i was five my father was arrested on many many charges. all of them were non violent and just minor ones from what I know now but there were 70 of them so... he ended up only going for 3 months, he deserved longer though. he was meant to get 67 years. but he went to jail and my mom was just no longer in the picture so custody defaulted to my grandparents. and they for good reasons, put me in foster care.

i spent 2 years in one home an like 2.5 in another. the first home was hell, i got blamed for everything. thats why im really good at defending myself from false accusations now. but one of the other kids happened to start a new habit when i got there. he would pee all over the toilet. and i was the one who had to clean it. then after a while he started to pee in the shower, this was what really made me hate this kid, it would stink and stain the concreate. (it was a "modern" shower) but i had to clean it. i ended up cleaning it daily. a gallon bucket and bleach concentrate and a god damn tooth brush. my eyes would burn, my hands would wrinkle, and my clothes were stained. one day i had finally got him, or so i thought. I stayed outside the entire day, i did not once go inside. they got home from work and immediately called me to clean the shower. i told them i have not been inside all day, i pleaded that they should check the cameras. the damn kid who did it though, said he hadn't been in all day either. who did they trust? correct. an unfair trial, and me wrongfully convicted. 

the second house i went to, was Cindy's. she was a saint. she had a pantry for the kids, made breakfast every day, had a trampoline in are back yard. even let us buy things on eBay.  she gave us allowances and took us on vacation. living with her was probably the best thing to have happened to me.

my dad after he was out of jail had to do treatment for his drug addiction. otherwise he couldnt see me, i got to see him once I moved to Cindy's because she allowed it unlike the other foster parent. eventually he got his own place and i moved in with him, contrary to what the foster therapist would tell me. kind of fucked up to tell a kid his dads never coming to get him, and that he's not doing anything to get me. 

when i moved in we were on the ground for a week or so, no tv or anything. just pizza for dinner and sleeping bags. a church organization gave us Funiture i forget there name but we got all the Funiture we could ever need.  

once the summer was over i started to go to school. 5th grade, yippee. i met a friend towards the end of the year that another friend introduced me too. i never stoped going to his house and were best friends till this very day.

I was able to complete my 5th grade and whole middle school there, but halfway through my freshman year for reasons that deserve their own blog i had to move into my friend's house and i have I've been living here for more than 2 years. there the second greatest thing to happen to me 

that's the end of this one, I'll probably have another blog for simply the apartment life with my father cause that's were prolly most of any trauma i have came from but im going to head to the store to get monsters, or rockstars haven't decided and then im going to a fair.

hope someone enjoys reading this, thankyou for your time.

regards, r