My name is Skyler, and my life is utter shit.

When I was born my Dad was out with his friends shooting up and getting drunk. I was kept in the hospital because my Mom was drinking, smoking, doing drugs, and tried to overdose on pain killers 4 times.

When I was 4 I had to lock myself and my dog in my parents' hidden weed room because three men broke into my house and shot my parents seven times each because they didn't pay them back for the drugs. I was given to my aunt who was a drunk, but she sobered up for me. She was the first person I called family.

When I turned 5 my dog ran away. I locked myself in my room for weeks.

When I was 9 a dog appeared on my front porch and looked like my old dog so I kept it. I never got close to that dog though. I actually hated that dog and didn't know why.

When I was 10 I put the dog in front of the door, opened it and kicked it as hard as I could in the ass and into the road and got hit by a car. My aunt couldn't afford to take it to the vet so I picked up a brick and dropped it on the dog killing it. We buried the dog in the back yard.

One day when I was 13 a dog that looked like the one in my back yard showed up. It answered to my old dog's name. My aunt was scared and called local shelters and looked for missing dog signs once she realized I killed someone else's dog. Turned out it was a pound run away and it was gonna get killed anyway.

When I was 15 I snuck out to a party. This crazy chick got me drunk and we fucked. That night I realized two things: one I have a stalker and two I'm gay.

Now we're here and I'm 17. My life is still shit. I'm lonely, and everyone thinks I'm crazy. You do too probably, but I'm not It's just the fact that when I listened to my parents' scream and get shot, all my feelings went away.