I AM SORRY FOR MY FIRST POST, I WAS TOLD IT WAS TO GRAPHIC, THERE ARE PARTS OF ME PEOIPLE DONT WANT TO KNOW, AND IT THOSE PARTS I WISH I DIDNT HAVE, I GUESS I AM TO OPEN AND HONEST FOR MY OWN GOOD, THIS IS THE BOOK I AM WRITING, AFTER READING THE BOOK THE LOST BOY, I WAS INSPIRED,
Preface
This book is more so about what my childhood had done to me them about my childhood, though what good is telling one with out the other, so I am going into a brief description of my childhood, my goal here is to get to my adult life and explain the reasons behind what allot of societies down falls are, acceptance being the largest part, so many people see me as something I am not, we are simply the products of our environment, each of us deals with our past in different ways, I have been told for years what a strong person I am, by people that know my past, I know by writing this allot of people will hate me, and think me a sick abomination, maybe I am, and I understand allot of people will think its all a lie, well though its was never all the way documented, there is proof, my mother will never admit to anything, she is much to smart for that, but there were news paper articles about the robbery, and CPS had records of me in California, my many visits to the cottage as we call it, then there’s my sister, she is a very Christian person and wont lie, though even she doesn’t no it all,
BROKEN
The who what and why I am who I am.
I was born in Joplin Mo, 1961, a day I lived to regret, my parents divorced before I could even remember my father, my first memories are of a Christmas when I was about 5 years old, we were in my grandparents home in Oakland California, a few blocks bellow east 14th street, a very bad part of town, there house set in back of a laundry mat where the locals held there friendly poker games, we could hear them fighting and yelling all the time, broken beer bottles and used condoms were not an unusual sight in grandmas yard, I grew up in Oakland, and since I was white, and mom hated the entire African American race, going outside to play and having friends were out, she always acted like they had a disease, or if I touched them I would turn black, she always told me if I ever dated a black girl she would disown me,
On this Christmas I was playing with a set of army men I had gotten by a small house plant grandma kept by the window, Vietnam was all over the news, hippies and protests going on every where, and me playing army, I was biting the heads off the men that had died, to mark them, when mom saw what I was doing she picked me up by the hair on the back of my head and dragged me across the room, mom was always in a bad mood when we went to my grandparents house, she hated her father, he had her put into a boarding school when she was young because she was so much trouble, grandpa didn’t speak English so all I ever heard was him and mom yelling at each other in French, I no he understood some of what she was saying in English, because she used to say “ I wish you would just die all ready” in English, and he used to flip her the bird after, grandpa had a stroke some years earlier and was in a wheel chair,
Mom used to purposely move his chair when we were there so he couldn’t get up, he used to yell something cabinet, in French which I learned was his way of saying he had to go to the restroom, mom would say just **** on your self, and smile at him, she only made things harder for grandma when she did things like that, but she didn’t care, grandma had a very submissive personality, and usually took what ever she had to just to try and keep the peace,
Later that night mom was smoking weed in the house and I could hear grandpa yelling about it, he got very upset because she used to blow the smoke out and into my face to try and get me high too, mom sent me into the other room to play so he would stop bitching as she called it, mom was extremely cruel to both her parents, grandma came into the dinning room where I was playing and asked me to get the dishes left in the living ro
