My life was pretty good when I was a child. Me and my brother had almost everything we wanted, like gaming systems and pets. We had a good father figure, one that I personally love even till this day. I just wish he knew that. 

     Our stepdad was the only good father figure I remember in my life. He was the type of person who would actually spend time with his kids, but also worked long days so he could provide for the whole family.  Fun, and loving. He wouldn't dare lay a hand on me when I got in trouble.

     My stepfather is my hero. He is nice, and makes sure me and my brother are working hard on school and he would tuck us into bed at night and give us monkey hugs. My brother and him used to wrestle in the living room, which was always fun to watch, and he would always tickle us to death. Dad even won me a teddy bear at Marine World once. He was also the person who sparked my interest in anime at such a young age. He had a whole row on our movie shelf dedicated to the series Bleach, which is actually pretty damn good when you watch it. 

     My mother, she is a different story. I did have a good relationship with her at first, but now? Not as much. Yes, we did have fun. But my relationship with Dad was way better than hers. My mother would always raise my dosage of Adderall when we went to the doctor's. It would make me tick and twitch, something I could not control myself. I thought it was normal, but it isn't. My dosage was incredibly high. I wouldn't eat because of it. I would be energetic in the mornings, but at night I would feel sick and I would sleep a lot. 

     This was among other things that she did, like spank me when I wasn't lying. She didn't really take care of us when I was around 10 years old. Mom would lay in bed all day and not do anything, only getting up for the occasional cigarette and phone talk outside. Mom was incredibly possessive, she would not let me see my Aunt or grandparents for a reason I could not remember. 

     Then the fights started. They weren't that bad at first. Actually, I don't think I remember them yelling or anything. But I do remember having a family talk in the living room. Mom and Dad were sitting down in front of me and my brother, telling us that they were going to take a break from each other, and that maybe we might leave. I remember starting to cry and ask why. I don't remember what they told us after that though.

     One time Mom had pulled us to the side and when our stepdad was not home. She told us that he had raped a lady, and got fired from work. Now, I realize that is not true. Yes, he did get fired from work, for a reason I don't remember. But I know he did not rape anybody, and that it was just a lie that my mother had fabricated so that we would start hating our stepdad. 

     About a month later, Mom was yelling at our Dad on the phone. I don't remember what was said, but he did say something like "Pack your bags, you are leaving." I remember listening to this, scared and crying. And then I yelled into the phone, telling him I hated him. I regret it even now. 

     Yes. I did hate him at the time. But he was not the bad guy in this story. He was a nice man who did nothing wrong. My mother, she was the liar. She made up stories so that me and my brother would hate him, and that is just what happened. I hated him for everything. For kicking us out. For making us pack our things. God, I could not even look at him. We had to give our dog away, who is now living with a good elderly couple. Our cat stayed with him. Our rescue hamsters, I am not sure what happened to them, but I do know my Aunt and Cousin took 2 of them.

     We went to my Aunt Steph's house. We maybe stayed there for a month or two and put everything into storage that was at my stepdads house. The teddy bear he won me, the game systems, our clothes and pictures and yearbooks. Everything. After that month or two was up, we stayed at my other Aunts house. That lasted pretty long, but my Aunt noticed things going missing in that house.

     She woke up to see my mother taking money out of her wallet once, but she did not say anything. A little while later, she kicked my mother out of the house and took care of us, as well as her two young children, my cousins. Then I was told about what she was doing. I did not really understand, since I was around 10 or 11 at that time. 

     Then she was not able to take care of me or my brother at one point, I think. We moved back into my Aunt Steph's house, who also had two children of her own. My Aunt was living off of government funds, hardly able to take care of four children and take them to two separate schools.

     My brother, Kaleb, would act out sometimes. He would throw temper tantrums. He is a year younger than me. Kaleb has Aspergers, a type of autism that actually is on the better side of the spectrum. He is smart, witty and a perfect brother, although we would get into fights. There was one time where we were at a local school pool, (which happens to be the highschool I go to now. The pool is open to the public for a dollar in the summer), and after we left my brother through a temper tantrum because he could not fold a towel so he could not get the seat wet.

     Some words were said, and he walked away from the car and out of our sight. My Aunt called the police to come find him. He went missing for about an hour before we found him near a McDonalds, still throwing a fit to get in the car. I don't really remember why he walked away though. I just know that after we came back 'home' everything was different and that my Aunt could not take care of us anymore.

     So....one day when I was 12 years old, there was somebody outside the door. My aunt told us to pack for one day, (or a week, I don't remember.) I felt like something was wrong but I did not say anything. We stepped outside and hugged everyone. My aunt, her daughter, her son. And then we stepped into a strangers car.