I'm going to be brutally honest. I am and never have I been a bucket of sunshine. I naturally have pessimistic realist way of thinking. My childhood was a bipolar express train. I got good grades, I got awards, I got bullied, I got raped, beaten and kidnapped. My mom was kind and loving yet abusive and cruel. My father was caring and in the picture, but he barely parented me and did nothing to stop my mother. We had a big beautiful house, but we were fucking poor. I was one of 8 but was constantly lonely. I spent the first half of my childhood thinking I was white, and the other half wishing I was. I was painfully shy, weird and awkward. To the point my mom would tell me daily. I remember a day after I did drawing of a tiger and wolf in midfight that caught a lot of attention. I was a known artist, so I thought it was the usual "atta girl" but no. My mom and my sister (who was translating) talking to a specialist. My "violent" sketch (animal planet kid) along with my moods, night terrors, and overall weirdo-ness on the table. They discussed my mental health in front of me as if I was full blown retarded. After that point I kept everything to myself. This was around 2nd or 3rd grade. I thought my luck would get better but alas, this locomotive to Shitville was just getting started.

I started having dreams of both my sister and my father molesting me. I still have no idea if anything did happen. I got my period around 9-10 and as a result, my body was more developed than just about everybody. I was bullied, not some pussy cyber bullied, but rocks thrown at my head, trying to kill me type of bullied. I was a chess club nerd nobody that happened to be pretty. -And yes, I will admit that I AM PRETTY, took me years to realize that, so take that vain/conceited comment and shove it up your ass- The popular girls hated it. I learned to run fast and hide well.

One day after seeing that this group of thugs in training had bats and not wanting to die, my ass took a detour. Where I ran into friendlies, one who was in mid fight with a girl twice her size while the girl's sister was throwing rocks aimed at her HEAD. I reacted and pulled the Dinosaur off of her and push her into her sister and they both fell. I was these two girls hero! Pretty please with myself I took a long stroll home home....

But fuck me in ass, who was waiting for me once I got home? The god damn police. I was being charged with assault and battery. The dinosaur's mother was some crazy connected cunt. And I was just some tan kid who's mother could barely speak English. The girl I SAVED took a plea, the other girl (who was actually my BESTFRIEND from 8 to 23) wasnt allowed to testify because her mother was a crack head. I lost my art camp grant. My mom beat my ass. The rest of my file viewed me as a fuck up. I started sneaking out the house at night to clear my head. Untill one night I was conned into going into a basment, by two men. I knew the men some what threw a friend that I usually ran into at night. I was looking for him and they told me he was "downstairs". They drugged me and rapped me.

I woke up early morning on a bare mat sandwiched between the two. Sore and disoriented I threw my shirt and pants on and ran up the stairs where I bumped into the kid I was looking for and his dickface friend. Eyes wide, he asked what I had been doing down there, to which his friend replied "she's been getting dicked, she can barely walk" And laughed right in my face. I pushed through and ran home. I made tons of noise getting back threw the window. Maybe I wanted to get caught. And I did. I tried to tell my mom what happened but as soon as she heard "sex" (I didn't even know the word rape) She accused me of being a WHORE. And that she couldn't take my drug habits. -She made the assumption that I was sneaking out to do drugs.- I just wanted to shower and she ripped my clothes off, saw that I didn't have any under clothes and flew off the handle. Pushed me into a cold shower, hitting me and called me every diragatory name there is. My trial date came and she didn't even fight for me. I was thrown into a group home. I was twelve. And the party was just getting started.

I have more to write, but it's 530 am. And I don't know if anyone will be remotely interested in my story. But I will try to finish it soon.