by SP
Well, it all started the day I was born. 2001, September 27, my birthday. I don’t remember too much from when I was young, but then again no one does. But I do remember a couple of details. I remember when I was seven years old, that year I didn’t have a birthday party. This year I didn’t either, but I will get back to that later.
Anyways, I was born in Sacramento, at Mercy San Juan Hospital. I was born in Carmichael, but I moved all around Sacramento all my life. I lived in almost every city before. I went to ten different schools before I graduated high school. I never really had a longtime friend. I just had made friends at school, but I switched schools so much that I never could keep friends. I remember my mom and my dad and me and my three sisters all lived together. But things changed when I was just four years old.
I saw my dad beating up my mom, but I was only four years old and I felt hopeless. I could not have saved her. I wish I could have helped her, but I could not. That day it was raining. I remember it like it was just yesterday. It was a cloudy day the day my mom left me and I ran outside yelling “Mom, don’t leave!” and I slipped and hit my head. I even remember the red pajamas I wore that day. My dad told me it was gonna be ok and that my mom would come back but she never did, until years later when I was about ten years old. I remember my dad had a lot of money, but I’m not sure how he got it. Years later I realized how he did – he sold drugs to get it. I remember when I was ten years old my dad was ballin, my sisters and I each had our own quad. But that all ended two years later. But I’ll get to that later.
My dad was a good man until he got addicted to drugs. He would stay in his room all day long and not teach us anything. So whenever he would come out (of his room) he would catch me and my sisters doing something wrong because we didn’t know any better. So he would just kick our ass. One time my sister and I were fighting and I was just defending myself. So he came out of his room and grabbed me by the throat and picked me up against the wall and choked me until I could not breathe. He punched us, he kicked us, he would even punch us in the face. And we did not ever learn because he was never willing to teach us right from wrong. He just beat our ass. And I cried every night. And I just wanted my mom, but mom was gone.
Then, when I turned eleven years old my mom finally took my dad to court and managed to get weekend visits.
Then when I turned twelve I stopped seeing my mom and I stopped being able to call her. My dad said that it was because my mom was on drugs. But I later realized that was a lie. It was the other way around.
So when I was thirteen years old that’s when my dad became homeless and very addicted to drugs. We lost every single thing. My dad sold everything for drugs. We lost the house, stopped paying bills. There was maggots living in my house. There was shhh and piss on the ground. So we moved to a motel for a day.
And from that day I moved in with my uncle and my sisters moved in with my aunts, but one month later we were all kicked out. They no longer wanted to take care of us. And that month my sister went to school when we came back to the motel with bruises from my dad so she told the school so our school called CPS and had my mom came to pick us up to live with her. That day we were so happy. We rarely seen our dad after that. We went to a different school.
We lived in a good neighborhood after that. We did good. My dad ended up going in and out of jail after that. And later to prison. He is home now and is clean and works for a tow company. And I talk to him and he is helping me pay for a lawyer.
I am eighteen years old now and I’m in Kiefer Juvenile Hall. I’m facing a very serious charge. I defended myself. And now I’m here.
My life has been pretty bad. But I’m positive because I know how to treat a woman. I know structure. I have been able to connect with God since I been here. And I want to make a family soon. And I know how to raise them and show them right from wrong. And not put my hands on people or things when I’m angry. It’s 2019 now but I have a lot of faith in God I will be going home before 2020. I’m a very optimistic person. Even though my life sucked at first. I will become successful from it. (to be continued)