Running through all the trees, wanting to get away as far as I can from the group home, the only thing I can think of was my mother and everything we went thru. “Hurry up Benjamine and Alex” said Charlotte as we run all through the sand and rocks in the floor. We ran faster and faster, as theres cars and people looking for us. Charlotte receives a phone call from the group home’s supervisor but its ignored, we all were excited and felt some freedom to finally be out from the place. Our plan was to catch a ride with Charlotte’s friend and leave California, or go as far as we can so we never have to return to that place. We get in the car, he starts the gas and gets in the freeway in less than two minutes. So far we had two places that we could stay at, Charlotte's friend who lived with her mom but had a place to sleep in, or at least a floor. Going back to how all this became possible and was not just a dream anymore, I arrived to California when i was just five years old, I was born in moscow, Russia.

All i remember from living in Moscow was my mom leaving us to get a better life in the United States. I felt a sense of relief when I got to the U.S, i was with my family, the one and only thing in the world that mattered to me when i was five years old. As time passed with my mom, problems started. My mother was a kind woman, she was friendly, goofy and filled with joy like me. A friend of hers asked her if he could stay with us for a few days because he had nowhere to go at that time, my mother being like she is, of course she said yes. The next day I went to school, my mom had left us at “Six to Six”  program because she had to leave for work, as class starts I start crying like a newborn baby. Ten minutes into my class and I was still crying, my teacher had asked me what was wrong but I had no response, I did not know what to say to her. She then took me into the office, the principal, my teacher and even a local police officer was there. I took more than 20 minutes just to let one word out, the officer wanted to talk to be but i didn't know if i was going to be able to talk or keep crying.

I was only five or six years old and I was being interrogated like if i had committed a felony.The consequences of me not responding to her questions, made me end up at Polinsky. Had I known that all that weeping and crying would have driven me to this unbearable situation, i would've stayed quiet and say not one word. My mother lost and confused because of what was going on did nothing but cry, she couldn’t understand why her children were taken away for no damn good reason. On our way to Polinsky, I feel some chills and fear because I no longer had my loving mother to hug me and tell everything was going to be okay. My brother and I walk in, we have not even been there no longer than five minutes and they are already checking us in, looking for any allergies we may have and taking most of our belongings. More than a month has passed by and my brother and I still find ourselves sleeping on this cold and hard mattresses. “Had my mother forgotten about us already?” I asked myself. Little did I know that she did everything she did everyday to bring us back home, she took classes, worked hard everyday so that she could be able to pay the court the money she owed.  Sometimes, or most often the only thing I could think of was my mother and how much I needed and missed her.

My caseworker decided that going to a foster home would be better for sense I was only six years old. My first foster home was not that far away from my old home, my foster mom was nice and very calm minded. My first birthday was almost around the corner and all I had wished for was to go back home. As the court decided to leave me in the system and have my mother do more services to get us back, my mother was becoming tired and filled with sadness.

 I was already getting used to my foster home, I didn’t see her as a mother but I saw her as some sort of role model. She had a husband, two stepsons and a baby on the way. As a kid I thought that everyone that had to do with me being in the system was evil and bad, I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t let me go home. Was it so hard to just drive me back to my moms house with my brother and all our belongings? I didn’t think it was. I started to realize that there was no way they were going to let me go home any time soon or any time in the future. As I realized all that, I all also started to be rebellious. This one weekend my foster mom had to work so she had left me with a friend of hers because she didn’t want to leave me alone in the house, she picked up around three or four. As we drive home i noticed a motorola phone in the car’s cabinet, we pulled up to the house and I act as if I dropped something in the car while she is getting out the car, as she closes the door I grab the phone with a quickness. She realizes that her phone was missing when she goes back to the car and looks for it. Of Course, as a careless seven year old kid I say it wasn’t me but who’s going to believe that? Both her and her husband search my room and find it in my underwear drawer. My caseworker was called right away, and in less than a week I was out of that house. I never got to get all my stuff, I assumed most of it was thrown away since I never got it back.

         My second foster home was worse than the first, My foster mom’s name was dora, she had one daughter living with her and several other young foster kids. Her daughter was about 7 or 8 years old, maybe younger than me. Usually my days there were boring but calmed. I was again rolled in to another elementary school in Chula Vista with her daughter. At that age I hated when people would go through my stuff and take something, thats exactly what her annoying little girl did. She had taken something from my room and thought she could get away with it, when I catched her and she wouldn’t want to admit it, I bit her arm and didn’t let go. The next day after school my foster mom’s older daughter tagged along to give me a brief warning, I remember the exact words she said that day,“ don’t you ever lay your teeth again on my little sister” she said. I was even more scared with the way she said it. We went home and they acted normal like always, I was in my room for most of the day and I didn’t even come out to eat because I was scared of everyone.

For the rest of my remaining time in that house I had developed a routine. I went to school, came home did my homework, grabbed something to eat before anyone came out and stayed in my room for the rest of the day. Dora then started to realized what was going on, it seems that me staying in my room without talking to anyone is being mad and isolating myself from the rest of the world, I just considered it “me time.” I ended up leaving that house, my caseworker then decided to move me into the foster home that my brother was in. Around that time is when I started to be quiet, and to leave my myself to me. I could not stand people asking me questions over and over again. On the way to my brother’s home, my caseworker could not shut up, I detested every single word that came out her mouth. I was happy to arrive to the same place my brother was staying at, I felt a relief to be with a family member, even though it wasn’t really the support that I wanted or needed. Gregory, my brother, was worse than the last time I saw him, he had bigger anger issues, he was rebellious and didn’t care about what other people’s thoughts or words were. I wanted some to protect me and tell me that everything was going to be alright, it was the wrong place to look.

Even though the court had already said that no time soon I would be going home to my mom, my case was still opened. I would have a checkup every six month to check how I was doing, if I was getting everything I needed, and to see if having my brother and I in the same foster home would be a good idea. To me going to court every six months was good because it meant seeing my mom for at least an hour. I liked my foster home, and everyone else who lived in there, they were all nice and considerate of others. My foster mom, Gloria, was the best out of all. She had this loving and caring mother act to her, she would treat you as her own. I think thats what I looked for in most of my recent homes. Five or six years into being in the system, the court had finally said that I but only me can go back home to my mom. It was the happiest day of my childhood. My mom was filled with joy, she cried a cry of happiness. Little did I know that my mother had found a man to live with, i was surprised but happy because I wanted a father figure in my life.

My step dad's name was Henry, he was tall, big and he was born in Los Angeles, California. They both had rented a two bedroom apartment that i liked because I didn’t have to share a room with my brother. Life was going good for a while, I was liking being back at home with all of my family. When my first birthday with them came up, I made a list of things I wanted to do. the only thing I wrote was “spend the day with my mom”.  In sixth grade, I was growing up and decided I wanted a boyfriend, Diego was my first boyfriend. I was young and stupid, and even though my mom said that I could not have a boyfriend, I did anyways. We only went out for about 2 months because my mother didn’t let me keep him because she said I was too young and didn’t even know how to wipe my butt.

My stepfather was most of the reason why my mom believed or said most of what she said. I already didn’t like him but he started to discuss me the day he laid his dirty, filthy hands on me. I was eleven or twelve years old in sixth grade, I didn’t know whether I should have told my mother or not.I let it continue for a while for some reason, to this day i don’t know why. I hated the way he would touch me, and how every morning after dropping my mom of work he would come in my room and the whole nightmare began all over again. I felt nasty and dirty inside me, it was something that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times i showered. The bathroom was right in front of our living room, one day my mom was cooking, i was watching TV and my stepfather was just coming out the shower, he saw me sitting there and sense the tv was facing the way the bathroom door was, he let his towel fall. My brother was with us that day and noticed everything that happened, he told me right away to tell my mom but he knew I was scared and didn’t want to because I knew what would happen, I would go back into the foster system.

Days went by and my brother out of anger, he told everything that had happened to my mom and he’s case worker. I was mad, furious with him but there was nothing I could do about it but deny and deny it all. I had no choice but to leave with Gregory’s case worker to Polinsky. This was the second time going to Polinsky, I had not been there for five minutes and I already wanted to leave. I was only there for a week, when my new social worker worked a way to get me out in less than a week. I got to go back home but little time after that it was Thanksgiving, and the whole family was going to be together again for another Thanksgiving day. Gregory and I decided to go over to my uncle’s house to sleep over before the special occasion. My cousin picked us up and left that night. We had a good time at my uncle’s house, we played games and watched movies. That’s what we usually do every time we go to their house. The following day we helped or I helped my aunt with all the food preparation, she had made tamales, fruit punch, hot chocolate, and mole, which was usually the family’s favorite. Everyone normally always comes at or after eight thirty, it was already eight and my mom had not arrived yet. Time goes by and I forget about her not showing up.

Somehow, my stepdad came up, either my aunt asked why I was away for two weeks or I spilled something I wasn’t supposed to. My auntie asked me what had happened and for some reason I felt that I had the need to tell her, both my aunts asked me questions as if I had two extra mouths. The reunion ended after twelve in the night but that doesn’t matter because I was knocked out before eleven in the night.  In the morning when I woke up I realized that my mom did not show up at all last night, I was worried some what but then I figured that she had gone out to one of her friend’s party. My aunt tells me to call my mother so that she can come pick us up, she arrived an hour later after we called.

My mom arrives calmed, my aunt asked my mom to go in the room so that she can speak to her in private. I didn’t hear what she told her but I knew she didn’t take it well because she came storming out of the room telling me to gather my stuff and to get in the car. Before I do, she asked me if all she said was true. I stuttered for a minute and then a firm and sured “yes” came out of my mouth. Her voice changed dramatically, she grabbed me, took me to the car and left home. As soon as we got home she screamed at me like if I had robbed an old lady or a bank. I went straight to room and closed the door. I had felt so bad after the situation, I thought to myself “what did I do? after begging the judge to let me go home a million times, I had to ruin it when everything was starting to go back to normal.” My mom came in my room, I was crying, she was crying and I didn’t know what else to tell her anymore.

I was upset at the fact that she did not believe her own daughter, was it because I had denied all this a while back? I told my mom “take me back to my uncles house!” she responded with a “are your crazy, you stupid girl?! Why in the hell would you lie? We already went over this Alexandra! Remember? you sat there and told me that It wasn’t true!” “I don’t care, just take me back to my uncle’s house, I don’t want to be her!” My mom then grabs her phone and throws at me, it accidently hits me face but I grab it as soon as I can before she changes her mind. My cousin and uncle arrive within 10 minutes to take me with them. It killed me to leave her, but I didn’t feel safe with in her house anymore. It wasn’t the same anymore, I didn’t know who to turn to or what to do.

Fewer than two weeks went by before my uncle decided to take me back to my moms house because he had thought that he was going to get in trouble with the court. I arrived back at her house, went straight to my room and closed the door. I felt like as if I didn’t belong there anymore, as if i had no home. There was only one week before school ended, my mom had asked my other uncle to take me to school because I was late for the bus. Close to school ending, I was already wondering what was going to happen later on that day. I was sitting in sixth period bored when the teacher gets a phone call regarding me, they told me to go to the office because someone was there to pick me up. My cousin, Irina had picked both my younger cousin and me up from school.

The reason she did was because somehow she found out that I was back at my mom’s house, and she didn’t want me there. She was and is truly one of the few people I really admire, she has her ups and downs but one thing's for sure, she knows how to handle her life and her education. Later in the night, my mother called my auntie and told her that she did not know what she gotten herself into. I noticed how much my mom did not like her, how for some reason blamed her for everything. I couldn’t understand why but my auntie knew how to handle it and ignored everything she said because she felt the need to protect me.

 Months went by and I was insecure about everything. Everything was going wrong in my life, I felt the need to give up. I didn’t want to live a life without my mom because I felt that I couldn’t do anything without her, everything I did in the past was for her. One day when I came home from school I felt depressed and ready to give up, I went to the kitchen and grabbed a knife and took it straight to the bathroom. I stood there for five minutes before I did anything, I said to myself “stop being such a pussy and do it!” I had hurt myself, i cut my arms with three knife strokes. I felt stupid but a sense of relief came out of me, It was something that kept and took my mind out of everything else. A month or so after that incident,

I had reunited with an old friend I had met three years back, Tommy. We started to hang out more often, he was a bit older than me but I didn’t care because I knew we were only friends. I started hanging out with him and going to his house more often, I soon started to get into drugs. The first time I smoked weed I didn’t know what to do, I thought I was going to die. I ended up doing it more often, almost everyday. I already liked to drink way before we found each other again, but every time we would have a reunion with him and his friend I would get really messed up and barely found my way back home.

         One day, I decided to go after school to his house and kick back with the gang, we all drinked and most us smoked too, I drinked a little more than I should have and disrespected my friend. When I got home I felt hopeless and done for that yet again I grabbed a knife and stuck it to my arm, this time it was worse than before. It was a deep cut, it was bleeding like as if I had endless gallons of it. Sense i was drunk and wasted for most part of it, I didn’t care and let it sit. When I woke up I thought of what I had done, on how I disrespected the one person I had.

         I realized that even though I did all the bad stuff with him, he was there for me, he knew and understood what I was going through, he didn’t want anything or anyone to harm me because he thought of me as a little sister. His brother and him had gotten all close to me, and so had I. He knew that I wasn’t myself, he understood and didn’t even want to blame me for it because he thought that it was his fault for giving me all that he did. My auntie, Anne, the one I was staying with started complaining because I was always coming home late. She didn’t know how much I wanted to be away from everything and everybody that had to do with me at that time. Two years went by and my auntie got tired of me not doing what I was supposed to do, she asked my caseworker to place me in another home or to get my stuff straight before I really mess up. I didn’t listen and had to move out.

They had assigned an old foster lady to me, her house was by the beach, that was the only thing I really liked about it. I was excited to be somewhere close to it. The first day I got there we already came up with issues, we both sat at the dinner table for dinner, she brings out a plate of salad with dressing. I tell her “I'm not eating this, I don’t like dressing”, She answered me “well I wish you could’ve told me that before, now you’re going to have to eat it so it doesn’t go to waste.” “No, I just said I don't like dressing, why would?” I then had no choice but to eat the nasty salad. She comes out and brings a plate of spaghetti, which is the second worst dish I hate because It has tomato sauce. I did not complain about this one because I didn’t want to make a scene.

 For most of the week that I spent there, I was in my room for the most part. The lady though there was something wrong with me because I didn’t even want to talk to her or because I was quite. On the weekend, I was tired of being there and not doing anything, so I demanded her to take me back to my aunt’s house. I packed all my stuff and got in the car. When I got home, my aunt knew that I didn’t go well, she knew that I wasn’t going to last. She thought about it before taking me in again, she needed to know that I was going to behave and follow her rules. I agreed to everything she said because I just wanted to get back into my old bed. A few months went by with no problems, it wasn't that long until they started to come back.

My aunt told my caseworker the same thing and In a month I was gone. I was sent to a group home In Encinitas, which at the beginning didn't’ seem so bad until a few months went by. I started to feel isolated from my whole family and friends, and my mom. I wasn’t close to anything at all, It was a group home far away and isolated from everything else. In less than 6 months I  awoled from that place, the first time I didn’t make it far, I walked for two miles and then was brought back to where I was at because drivers decided to call the police and say “theres a young lady walking on the side of the road asking for a ride.”

I was brought back and right away had a meeting with the director, I promised no more running away and focusing on school. I only made one come true, the school focusing because three days later I runned away with my roommate Charlotte. We had it all planned, the night before we put our plan to test we had escaped to the top hill to get away from everything. We were gone till midnight, we heard coyotes howl and call their other members of the pack. For some reason we both wanted to leave the place that same night but chose not to because all our belongings were back at the place, and we wanted to say our goodbyes to our staff too.

 Once we came back to our rooms, we knew we had to start planning it because time was ticking. It was our one and only chance of being free and not have someone check on us every five minutes. It was our chance to go back to our loved ones, the ones we wanted to be with and to have a normal life. We decided to do in the night because it was a smaller chance of them seeing us when they started to look for us since it was pitch dark. Saturday’s afternoon we started getting ready, tightening our shoes to make sure we don't’ fall or hold us back any kind of way. We didn’t take any clothes or any other belongings because we thought it was going to make it hard for us to run and might hold us back.

It was nine in the night and I was already to go. We all gathered up and acted as if we were going to the gym to hang out, sense the gym was far out to the left, it was the easiest place to go and leave right after. An hour and a half after going and running through all the trees, sand and mud, we get to where we were going to be picked up. Luckily for us our ride had just arrived, we run to get in the car and hit the freeway. I got a warm feeling knowing that they couldn’t catch us anymore, a sense of relief we all felt.  It was the shortest ride down to San Diego, maybe because it was at midnight and there was barely any cars. Charlotte and i arrived at her friends house, she had just gotten there so it was perfect timing. She walked us in into her aunt’s room and let us sleep there.

Throughout the whole night I was tossing and turning because I couldn’t sleep, all I felt was the cold and hard floor that we were sleeping on. I felt stupid for doing it but it didn’t matter because at least I was far away from that place. I stayed up till three or four in the morning and woke up at seven in the morning because everyone that lived there had to go church or work. My stomach was growling and so was Charlotte’s, luckily for us her friend, Patricia gave us soup and macaroni. I think that was the best meal I had ever had. She gave us food, clothes and drove us to Fashion Valley Mall so that we can catch the trolley further down San Diego. Charlotte said her goodbyes to her old friend and then we ran to catch the trolley. We only had twenty dollars so we had to think of a way to make extra money, I just remembered that I had my gold necklace on. “Why not use that as extra money?” I thought to myself.

When we got to Point Loma, we walked all around to find a pawn shop. Charlotte saw two police cars and panicked right away. I told her “don't’ act suspicious or they’ll come right at us.” She thought that they were going to come anyways , no matter what we do.  We walked in another direction and continued to look for the pawn shop. Right next to Rubios, we found “Katie’s Pawn Shop”, we walked right in and with a deep breath I took of my gold necklace and handed it to the lady. “How much?” We asked. She had said about ninety dollars worth, as desperate as we were, we agreed and took the offer. “Can I see your I.D?” The lady said. Our jaws dropped and man was I thinking we were so stupid for not bringing our I.Ds with us. The fact that we were old enough to pawn something but didn’t have prove made it worse, and just made us feel stupid.

Moving along from the pawn shop, we decided to get someone old enough to pawn the necklace. After several tries, we decided to give up. Not knowing where we were gonna go, we went to the trolley station to look for a destination. After a little “trolley road trip”, I came across someone that I had been friend for quite a while. I knew his number by memory so I called him, Tommy knew how much I hated that place and it wasn’t much of a surprise that I had awol. He told us to go down to his house and for my or our benefit, I hadn’t forgotten the way to his house.

Having Charlotte of my ear, ask me every five minutes if I knew where we were going, with who we were going, and what we were going to do there was irritating.  twenty minutes later, I was happy to finally be there. I ran to hug, kiss and play with my dog because it had been a while since I last seen her. My brother welcomes me with a hug and with a “what you do?” face. Scared because I knew he was going to be upset and mad at me, I walked in and said hello to everyone else. Knowing that we were hungry, he offered to give us food. Well he didn’t really offer, he just gave us some because he knew I, well we were hungry. Asian’s have the weirdest food ever, I was already used to it but I was worried about Charlotte because she didn’t eat anything that was weird or gross looking.

After eating, Tommy and I sat down to talk about what our plans were. I had told him that our original plan was to go to Fresno with Charlotte’s auntie, he thought we were stupid and crazy because it was so far away and no money or ride to get up there. I told him that I wanted to pawn my necklace, he knew how I felt about that necklace and right away disagreed with me.  I’ve had the same necklace for my whole life, there hasn’t been one day that I don’t wear it. It was given to me by my mother and it really was the only thing that I had from her, I couldn’t stand to lose it but it was the only way. Even though I was willing to give it up, i don’t think anyone really understood how much it meant to me. I was scared to do it, it was probably the hardest thing I’ve had to do.

My decision to give up my beloved possession ‘came out with good results. Johny, Tommy’s friend gave us a ride to the pawn shop and pawned it for us sense we didn’t have an I.D to show our age. They had given us a hundred dollars, even though I felt like that was so little for so much, I took the money. Going back to tommy’s place, I was thinking on a way to actually get to Fresno. Man did I wish that I had some family in Fresno, that I had my step family's number. L.A could’ve been the best place to live in, at least for me. The “Sprinter” sounded good because it was fast, well the fastest was five hours but it definitely was the fastest so far. Our other option was bussing it up there, which could have taken us a day or a days and a half.

I couldn’t help thinking that this reminded me so much of my childhood, hopping around was what I do best. I could never stay in a place for so long, since i was five to the age I am now. It was hard to behave when I was young and now it was just hard avoiding the emotions, feeling like I was alone in this place. Living a life where you think that your the only person who you can really trust and rely on, only wanting one thing. Family and my mother where the only two things that I really cared for and loved. Snapping out of my thoughts, I went to look up the fares for the Sprinter ticket, each ticket was about forty or thirty dollars.  

The next day, it was saturday and my brother didn’t have anything to do. I was excited to be with him for one more day, so the whole crew, including Charlotte, went to the park and then to Johnny's house. Johnny was a pot head, just like everyone in that crew. He lived with his mom, sister and his sister’s baby. The place was big enough, his room was big enough too, at least for the whole gang to fit inside there. We all sat down and played Nintendo 64, games like that never get old. When I was free, and lived in my aunt's house, I used to come to Johnny’s house just to smoke Hookah, I think its better than weed. My first doing Hookah wasn’t so long ago, though it was trippy and very confusing. I actually liked it, so it became my new thing. I looked all over the room for the long, shiny, transparent but burnt Hookah stand.  

It turned out that Johnny’s cousin had it all the way in Santa Barbara. yeah, I was bummed out. sense there really was nothing else to do, I looked up the tickets for the Sprinter to Fresno. They came out to be forty five dollars, so I decided to rethink this whole plan. I didn’t know whether to just execute this whole plan or try my best to get us up there.The next morning, it was time to leave, we packed our stuff up, showered and ate something before heading to the bus stop. I couldn’t blame Johnny for not wanting to give us a ride down to station, he had already done enough for us.

When we got down to the station we got in line and since there was only three people ahead of us, we told the guy “ two tickets to Fresno please” the guy then said “can I see your I.D please” ….... “damn, fucking shit...... I knew we were going to need it! How stupid am I?!” I was mad, upset and angry at myself, at us for doing something so stupid and not being able to go all the way through it. How could we have been so stupid to leave something like that? Since that was our only way to buy the tickets, we walked outside. Charlotte then suggested to have someone else buy the tickets for us, I thought about it and didn’t agree at first but then changed my mind because I was so hungry and desperate to be in a warm and cozy house.

We asked about three or four different people, and all of them said “no, I have no time, sorry.” Yeah, Yeah...... That was all bullshit. We thought about giving up, but Charlotte was even more determined to find that one person to buy the tickets. Charlotte calls me over, and tells me to look to the left side of the station, we see a fat, maybe drugie type lady sitting with what looked like her drugie friend or therapist maybe. She plays around and says “ go ask her”.... Her laughing and playing around, I actually think about it and do it. I go over and ask “ excuse me mam, can I ask for a favor?” She says “sure, depends for what”

“My sister and I are going to Fresno but we don’t have our I.D’s to buy the tickets, so we were wondering if maybe you could buy them for us”

“We’ll if you have your mom verify for us that you're going to her house, then yeah”

I call Charlotte over and tell her to call her cousin and act as if she was our mom. We pass over the phone to the drugie lady and she says “yeah, hello? are you their mom?” as planned Charlotte’s cousin says yes and all the etcetera. We give her the money, it was about a hundred dollars. We felt like a weight was taken of us when she said yes. The women goes over inside the station and gets in line, Charlotte and me go wonder around. Five or ten minutes pass and we start to wonder what the hell she was doing. We go over and I look through the window, Charlotte goes and looks through the door.

“Shes not there!”

“What?! what the fuck do you mean shes not there?!” Man, did I freak out. We looked for her all over the place for about thirty minutes, we even ran around the place to see if she was anywhere around. Charlotte says “fatass bitch tricked us!”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that if you wouldn’t have told me.” I was even more mad, I was irritated... more than that, I was starting to feel like if we were gonna just stay her and become homeless. Charlotte goes to ask everyone at the station if they had seen a big, white lady.... everyone says no. No one had any idea of who she was or what she looked like. Tears running down my face, I tell Charlotte “call monica, tell her to pick me up!”

“Are you stupid?! we did not get this far just so that you can call them and tell to pick you up.... you’re really going to leave me alone in this ? I don’t want to stay alone, please!”

As pissed and angry as I was, I didn’t want to stay there any longer but I thought, I can’t do this to her.... She’s like a sister to me now. At one point I started to think that she was like a sister, the sister than I never really got to have or know.  

I yelled at her five or six times telling her to call our staff because I wanted to go home and not continue being there.  she didn’t listen to me not one time, instead she continued to ask people if they had seen the women. Since we weren’t gonna get our money back and we still had our day passes for the bus, we decided that we were gonna try to bus it all the way to Fresno. I actually thought that we could’ve made it. We got on the trolley to go up to Fashion Valley, half way there we decided to get off because Charlotte wasn’t sure of what we were gonna do. She rethinks it again and we get back on the trolley, once we get there, she gets a call from her mom asking her where we were.  She told her the truth, and something weird and strange.... She asked about me, who I was and what had happened to me, as in why I was in the group home. Charlotte usually doesn’t think right when she speaks, which lead her to stay “her mom died.” I wasn’t happy, but I didn’t have a choice.

Her mother now saw me as the girl who’s mother died. Charlotte told her mom that we had no money and nowhere to go, she was mad and upset because her daughter was out in the streets, who knows where so she told us or her to call her uncle so that we can stay at his place. She called her aunt, now she was a whole nother story, She was angry at the fact that we had left the place and jumped from bed to bed. Her being a runaway herself, understood. She told us to take the bus and trolley to her house, it took about thirty minutes to get down there and a whole lot of walking because we went the wrong way the first time.

When we go there, we were welcomed with warm pizza and pasta. That was the best dinner in my life, maybe cause I was hungry and starving. Charlotte’s little cousin ate with us too. She was the cutest little five year old I’ve met. Being done with our food, her aunt had to talk to us about the something Tommy did. Where were going? What were we gonna do? What's our rest of our lifes going to be like if we continue to run away?All that got me scared and made me have half a dozen flashbacks to my childhood, did I do all the hard work in the past just so I can end up a runaway kid with no high school diploma or  just a  minimum wage? No I didn’t want that for me but the fact that I was tired of being a foster kid just made me do all this, I wanted to be free and see my family with no type of complication.

Over thinking everything that happened, and what our plans were, none of that sounded good to me anymore. Charlotte still was stuck on the idea of going to Fresno to live with her aunt and cousin, I tried to convince her that the best thing was to go back because we couldn’t be run aways until we hit eighteen because thats two year from now. Her aunt lets us stay in her house for the rest of the night, she gave us snacks and let us watch t.v so that we can go back the next day, atleast thats what she had planned. We sat and discussed it, her plan was to go back the day after tomorrow, while my plan was to go back tomorrow in the morning. We enjoyed the last day we had freedom together.

The next morning Charlotte called our staff so that she can pick me up, the quickest she could here was in two hours. I was pretty mad but it took me almost forty minutes to get downtown so that I can met her. After getting there, it was about twenty minutes of wait  plus the looking for her I had to do. On the way back she asked me a whole bunch of questions, I answered them all with the truth because I didn’t see the whole point of lying to her. It took about forty minutes to back but before we did, she took me to Mcdonalds because I was hungry. I like when people feed me for some reason. When I got home I had to do a whole lot of talking with the supervisor, and answer a lot of questions like.... Did you do drugs? Where did you guys go? Who did you guys stay with? What did you guys do for three days? Most of the answers were confidential due to the fact that people can get in trouble.

After that whole talk, I had to take a drug test to confirm that I wasn’t lying. “Is it gonna be negative?” asked the nurse, “yeah” I said. I didn’t smoke for a reason, I didn’t plan to do drugs when I awolled. Getting used to the one on one again was annoying. I left the campus so that I don’t have someone follow me around the whole day, for the whole week.  I was still hungry and cold, so I asked if they could open my house because I didn’t want to stay in the office. When I went in my house, to my room I noticed that every single thing from my room was gone. It turned out that they had taken my stuff and stored it in the house parent’s house.  I was mad because I needed my blanket to go to sleep with. Instead I just layed down  on the couch and feel of sleep for the remainder of the school day.

I got up when I saw my housemate's come in, at first I was excited to see them but then I realized that it was just another day there like before. Wishing that we had gotten to Fresno was the only thing on my mind that day. I did that all because I wanted to see my mother, be with her, be free and have what I call a normal life. The court nor my social worker couldn’t understand that, did I not tell them so many times that things have changed.... I am now capable of defending myself. In my mind I knew I had the capacity of defending myself and asking for help if I needed it. No one thinks I’m capable of doing that because in their minds, I’m still a child who needs protection.

Two days went by before my roommate, Charlotte, came back. I came home one day from school and she was laying down sleeping like I was when I came back. I was happy to have her back. I still don’t get to this day how she came back, the girl had allowed more than five times and they still let her come back. Not that I didn’t want her here but it was just surprising. Sense we both had allowed and prom was coming up in less than a week, we weren’t allowed to go. My three days restriction and three days one on one was over when Charlotte came back. I live a life where I kept myself to myself, I didn’t like to get in drama. I didn’t like to associate with people unless they started talking to me, I considered a very few amount of people my friends.

It had been three or four months after I awoled and court was coming up in two or three months. School was just about to end, there was only one or two weeks left. Happy that school ended, I was even more happier to start the summer off with my birthday coming up. It wasn’’t really exciting for me, I was happy because I kinda like it because me and my mom have the same birthday, as in the same month and year. That morning I called my mom and wished her happy birthday. I cried because I missed her, I wanted to hug her and kiss her on the cheek. I don’t think that she ever understands how I feel, how much I miss her and how much i need her with me as a mother. To me a child needs a mother’s love for life, its something that every human being needs.

When I came back from awol, my mom had told me that my older brother and sister were going to come down to T.J, of course I was excited. I didn’t know if they were going to let me go see them, so I decide that if they said no... I was going to awol.... again.  Time came, and my social worker decided to let me go with my brother Gregory. We drove down there and looked for them for over a hour. I was disappointed because I thought I was going to see them and it had been a while since I last seen them. I missed my brother so much, I didn’t even know what he looked like anymore. Right when we are about to cross the line back to Cali, my sister touches my shoulder and asks “what's your name?” I didn’t realize that was her, I had forgotten all the pictures my mom had shown me of her. We had finally found each other, I went to hug my brother right away because I did recognize him.

We walked for over thirty minutes, we walked back and forth through T.J. We went to Mcdonalds and Gregory bought my niece a meal, she loves Mcdonalds for some reason. I had fun with them, it was one of those days where you just spent it with your family and it turns out to be so much better and calmer. I was thankful to see them again, it was the four of us again, I honestly didn’t think that was going to happen soon. Right before it was time to go, I had tears in my eyes. I didn’t want to say goodbye to neither of them. my brother noticed the tears in my eyes and pulled me to the side, he said “ take care of my mom, I know how much she stresses about you guys and she’s told me most of what has happened, but thats her side.” Yeah, i  my head I found so many things wrong with that.

I knew he was going to protect her, I stayed quiet and didn’t say anything but that I was going to miss them. I didn’t know what else to say but hug him, I didn’t want to ruin that moment because I knew how much he misses her. He knew my brother was different and had distinct from my mom a long time ago, he didn’t say much to him but he knew just by looking at him how he is. Once we left, I kinda felt like I needed to be with them. Going back to Cali was a nightmare, the line was literally two or more miles down. We waited for about an hour and a half, we got to cross the border back at nine in the night.  I had felt good for seeing my brother and my sister. I wish they had known the real story behind everything.

It had been three or four months after I awoled and court was coming up in two or three months. School was just about to end, there was only one or two weeks left. Happy that school ended, I was even more happier to start the summer off with my birthday coming up. It wasn’’t really exciting for me, I was happy because I kinda like it because me and my mom have the same birthday, as in the same month and year. That morning I called my mom and wished her happy birthday. I cried because I missed her, I wanted to hug her and kiss her on the cheek. I don’t think that she ever understands how I feel, how much I miss her and how much i need her with me as a mother. To me a child needs a mother’s love for life, its something that every human being needs.

I went on pass that day to be with the rest of my family. I was excited to go because it was going to be the first time I would see my cousin that came back from boot camp, it was surprising to me to know that I missed her. For half the day it was chill and everyone just chilled back. My cousin arrived and right away I standed up to give her a hug. I missed her for some reason. My other cousin, Hector came in with his girlfriend. The whole family was there but my favorite uncle. They all brought presents out and even a cake. The cake was really har.... I mean hard, for a second I thought it was ice cream but it wasn’t.  Moments after three or four bites of that hard rock, I opened my presents. In those presents there was a little Coach bag, it was special because everyone in our family likes, loves bags... especially if they're from some big label. I was happy about that and about the day. I got picked up at seven, and got home at eight or nine. Over the last three weeks I got a boyfriend on campus, I was anticipated to go home and be with him for the rest of the day.

Even though we had just started our relationship, he was sweet and knew how to treat a girl. I had trust in him for some reason, from the beginning of our relationship we had said that it was going to be a serious relationship, one where we wouldn’t tolerate cheating or any other bullshit involved with that. We had always trusted each other, I trust him even though he wasn’t faithful in his last relationship, I had developed this natural trus with him, one that couldn’t be broken unless I saw it with my own eyes that he betrayed it. The fact that we started our relationship with certain standards and expectations  was one of things that made our relationship good form the start. One day I was at home with him watching “The Walking Dead” and I get a phone call from “my mom’s friend”, who turned out to be his ex-girlfriend talking smack and that she was going to come up on Friday. Yes, I waited for Friday and when it passed and she called, I said “ I was waiting for you.”

After a week or so she called to apologize because she wanted to come back to the campus, come back with no drama. I apologized too because I sincerely felt bad and understood how she felt at the same time. Since that chapter was closed with no drama left, a new one rose up. My housemates were the types who liked drama. They’re all nice but once we have drama in our house, everyone gets heated up. One day my housemate Sharley got in a fight with the youngest in our house, it was over three minutes later but that was enough to heat the house up. I was already having a bad day dealing with my mother, but who cares about that right? …... Well I was minding my own business when the young girl that got in the fight drags her bed to our room... Yeah, I was pissed of because those two girls were not roomates, therefor she had no reason to sleep in our room. But as usual my roomate wanted her to sleep there because she wanted to be involved in whatever was going on.

My roommate, Charlotte had gotten mad because I had complained about the girl sleeping in our room.... So her venting went to my old roommate and her roommate. The result of that was a fight. First one comes in my room and says “I heard you’ve been talking  shit.” I then said “haha about you? If you haven’t noticed I don’t talk to anyone on this campus.” The real fact behind that was that she was mad because I “took her man”. Which to my defense, they had talked for one week and he didn’t even take her serious. So she invented me talking shit behind her back.... but proceeding on from that event, she then said “ So do you want to fight?”

“Wow, really?.... No I don’t, I’m not that stupid”

I can hear my roommate and the other girl in the background saying “just take a hit, it doesn’t matter if she want to fight.” I was not really surprised to hear my roommate say that, I knew she was like that even though I didn’t want to believe it. She then comes back and says “Well if you do want to fight, we can go to the bathroom.” She then leaves and comes back into my room three or four times. I didn’t want to fight her because the girl was once my roommate and I just didn’t want to fight that day because of the events. Since I was already mad, i decided to do it and not give a damn. “Fuck it, lets just get this over with... come on bitch” I told her. “What? Did you just call me a bitch, bitch?!”

“Yes, I just called you a bitch, bitch”

She then comes up to me and since I was on my bed, I got up and we both started going at it. She hit me a couple times but it was nothing close to serious. I ended the fight with me kicking her off to the wall. When we got up I said “are we done? Satisfied?” She left the my room and went to the bathroom, there was a whole bunch of hair on the floor... and trust me it wasn’t mine... It was her weave. I went to my side and turned of my light, I cried because I was mad at the fact that I let it get this far. I grabbed a glass cup that I had in my dresser and threw it back to my dresser, I had broken glass all over my floor. I was to mad or just lazy to pick it up, so I went to bed. Five minutes later my old roommate’s roommate  came into my room.

“I trusted you and you betrayed my trust!”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about? Dude just leave, I wanna go to sleep.”

While that was going on, I noticed my roommate recording everything with her phone. She grabs a shoe at throws it at me, while I get up and move to the back of my room. She comes to me and grabs my hair and starts banging it against the wall and window. I have a chance to move and I jump into my bed and she follows me up, she grabs my head with one hand and punches me repeatedly with the other one. I get as far back as I can and kick her of me, I hit her in the eye and some of her other face but thats okay. She comes back and grabs me, throws me to the ground where the broken glass was. She punches me a few more times then she gets up and kicks me and says a few words. I don’t remember what they were, I was too busy covering my head.

Once I get up I find myself all bloody, my nose was bleeding for about five straight minutes, I had minor cuts on my legs like scratches from the glass and I had a deep cut on my arm that I didn’t even realize was there till Charlotte and the other girl started to clean it up. I remember that one of the cuts looked like a thunderbolt. All I really cared about was my face, it turned out that I had a big ball, the size of a softball, on my forehead.... Not exaggerating.  Once they cleaned up my blood and I was settled down in my bed my boyfriend calls Charlotte and asks to speak to me. “What happened?”

“nothing.”

“Really? Just tell me, I already know... someone texted me”
“Wow people can’t stay the fuck away from other’s business”

“I thought you weren’t the fighting kind”

“I’m not”

“Well, it looks like it”

I’m really not the fighting kind, I had only fought two times in my life. Yes, me getting fucked up was just horrible and I was pissed at the fact that my roommate had started everything. And at the fact that everything they had said, they had no idea whatsoever they were talking about, I’m not saying that I'm the little innocent girl but people should know that I don’t trust anyone here enough to tell them my thoughts or to just talk smack about anyone. Besides, I don’t know how to fight either... Thats the main reason why I don’t fight. I’m not that stupid to get myself into something that I can’t get myself out off. Everyone knew, knows i'm not the fighter and the fact that she chose someone else to fight that was smaller than her was just ridiculous.

I stayed up the whole night, I didn’t want to go to sleep because I didn’t know if I had a concussion. I stayed up thinking the whole night what the fuck had happened, how it happened and how I let it happen. In the morning I decided to get up from my funk and take a shower. I took my clothes off slowly because my body truly hurt to the point where I didn’t want to do anything but I had to. I got in the shower making sure that the water didn’t hit my cuts because I knew how bad it was going to hurt, the little cuts on my legs burned enough. I took a handful of shampoo and put it on my head, it felt like a bad pain or just someone pulling on my head extra hard.

Once I washed my whole body and head, I got out the shower and went to my room. I comned my head and my vangs to its place just so that people wouldn't be able to see the big bump on my forehead.  I went outside to ask my staff to open the supply drawer because I needed to get something. I noticed that she was outside talking to my old staff, Sharina. She was really one of the few people I trusted in this shit hole. I quickly stepped back and thought for a minute that they were gonna notice but I didn’t really have any bruises or anything like that on my face or arms. I walked forward and said hi to both, she said hi back for a second she stared at my face. “Did you get in a fight?”

“No, who am I gonna fight with? You’re dumb Sharina”

“Stop playing with me, you know I’m not stupid”

Yeah, its true... I don’t know how the women did it but she always found out about the sneakiest things we tried to do. She took two steps closer to me and looked at my face even closer and noticed scratches on my face that I didn’t even notice.

“Who you fight with?”

“I didn’t fight dude...”

“Was it Nora?... Was it Bella? Who was it?”

Dang was she good at guessing, I don’t know how the woman did it.

“Sure, yeah Sharina”

Man, I know I’m gonna regret it... I always do.

She took me to girls six because she wanted to talk to me alone. i told her everything that happened and right away she wanted to talk to both of the girls... I told her not to because I honestly just wanted to avoid more drama that could’ve and should’ve been avoided. She went anyways... Ten or fifteen minutes pass and someone knocks on the door...

“So you're gonna press charges on me?”

“Dude, fucking leave... I obviously didn’t say that”

The next three minutes were all about her asking the same question over and over again. She runs or more like walks to me and I get up with a quick move to the other side of the table.  She walks up to me faster and manages to get me in her bubble space, this time it wasn’t so bad. It was more hair pulling that anything, the girl didn’t get one punch to my face before my staff and a supervisor came in between us. It lasted like two or three minutes but in the state that I was, it felt like the longest three minutes of my life.  She let go and walked away, just before she left.... “Now you have a reason to put charges on me bitch.”

Fuck, was I pissed off at Sharina. I had this fucking rage, it was... I don’t even know what I was. After a few minutes, she came to talk to me to calm me down and to try to explain why she did what she did. I really don’t like talking to others, just cause when they get to the main point, by then I’m tired of hearing the same bullshit over and over again. I always tried to hear them out though, and Sharina was a different case....She told and made me understand why she did what she did, she said that she cares a lot about me and that she wasn’t just going to let it go.... But I never do understand why people get into other people’s business when it really is not any of their concern. I understood but I just didn’t want to.

Even though I wanted to move from my house and go on to next door, when it came to the real thing... I didn’t want to because I loved my room and I was already used to very thing there. Either way I move next door when i came back from my aunt’s house. Yeah. I had a choice to press charges but I really didn’t want to. One, because somehow I think that everyone deserves a second chance and two, I couldn’t deal with the whole court thing again. Weeks went by and as much as people told me that it was the right thing to do, I didn’t feel like it was. At one point i decided to do it just to make people happy, when the sheriff came to talk to me, I just backed out.... he asked “do you want to proceed?” I stood quiet for a few minutes there and said “No.” I just wanted to be done and over with this chapter of my life.

Weeks went by and I didn’t care much about what was going on, I spent the rest of my summer with my boyfriend and some weekends with my family. The fact that I didn’t like to spend a lot of time with my family, had me thinking that something was wrong. Why didn’t I like going so much? I thought about it more and more and I came to the conclusion that I didn’t feel some comfortable there. I went to see them because they were my family and it gave me a reason to get off campus for a good time sometimes. But I think, I’ve always looked for some kind of love there with my aunt, I wanted something. I knew that all I got there was more problems, issues and complaints with my cousins, whether it was about my older cousin Jennifer or my little cousin David but there was always an issue.

Even though I barely saw them sometimes, I was okay with it. I had more stuff to do with my boyfriend or the clinic’s therapist. One day we went Kayaking to La jolla, I was honestly scared and excited to do it. Once we got to the shore, we were ready to go. We got in the Kayak and paddled away.  We went to La Jolla’s caves and went inside, we saw a few sea lions. I actually loved it because for some reason, I was in love with the beach. I felt like it was the only place in the world where I got tranquility, calmness and joy of just enjoying the waves and watching the sunset and rise. It was the only place where I felt that.

Summer was almost over and I was ready for school, I mean when wasn’t I? I loved school, it gave me reason to continue on and to reach my future and goals in life. I always did do good in school, I felt the need to because like I said it was kept me going when I didn’t want to keep going.The first week of school, my boyfriend and I had broken up. I don’t remember why but like always I never gave it my all in my relationship because I’m only sixteen years old and they were never that serious. In this case it was different, we had only been going out for two months and I missed the guy so much that I wanted him back and I was willing to try.

We got back together after a week or more like a few days. It was always like that, we never lasted more than a week apart. One time, I came to a point where I needed time, I felt like I was dealing with too much. My mom, my brother, my family at home and him when we had arguments. I needed time for myself because i felt like I didn’t know what I was dealing with, what I was feeling and who I was at that point. In life, I think, theres a point in your life when you need time away from everyone in your life to “reconnect” with yourself. I felt like my life had no meaning because I had given up all my hopes and dreams, I really didn’t even know why I was doing everything that I was doing... Why did I want to be someone in life so bad? Why or what was the point of me doing everything that I was.

I went back to therapy even though I thought it didn’t work at all. To me, once you talked to someone about your emotions and you felt better, it only lasted for a certain amount of time. Then you just go back to how you were feeling, all bitter, sad, mad and irritated more than anything. No one could take the fact that something was done to you, the action and harm was done and it was still there no matter what, its not like something was going to make it go away or disappear. Thats how I saw it, and to me, I was right. Like I said, i was at my breaking point, at my downfall and one day I was so mad, so irritated, so pissed of at everything that I had to take out somehow. I was i my room alone, which is bad because when i'm mad and alone, it just makes me do stupid stuff to get rid of it.

I punched the window out pure angriness... I felt better in a way because I just wanted to be angry free and let it out. I layed back in my bed, facing down. I didn’t notice but my hand was gushing out blood. Everyone else hear the window shatter to pieces and ran to my room. The first one in the room was my friend, she had only been there for about two months but the girl earned my trust real fast and that was something hard for me to give. They got me up and took me to the bathroom, and tried to clean up my hand covered up with blood. There was little pieces of glass all over my hand, and it hurt to straighten my ring finger. It was cut up, my finger’s skin was cut off. Well my knuckle was, it was more like slided off.

They thought I had a piece of glass in there but I knew there wasn’t because I would’ve had felt it, which I didn’t. They asked me to go the hospital but as always I said “Fuck no!” No one understood how much I hate the hospital, I hate how it smells... I just hate it with a passion. Since I didn’t want my finger to rot and be cut off, I agreed to go. On the way there, my staff understood why I did it, she had been through the same thing once in the same place. Except her injury was worse, the girl had pushed her knuckles all the way back because she punched a metal door.Once we got to the place, the doctor asked me to wash of as much blood as I could. Yeah, it hurt but I guess they had to see the cut better. I waited for about fifteen minutes after that, then the doctor called me in. She took my blood pressure and  sent me back out.

They called me again and gave me a room in which they made me wait for about thirty minutes. It was after twelve in the night and I was ready to go home.The nurse brought in a big needle and some kind of plastic thread. Man, was I already regretting it. The nurse came in and filled the needle with anesthesia, and stuck it in my finger’s bone and flesh. Ahh, I said that was the last time I ever do that. It really dis numb it though because once she started stitching me up, I didn’t feel a thing. I laughed though, I have this strange way of dealing with physical pain with laughter for some weird reason. Once that was over they told me that it would be good if they took x-rays to check if my hand had any glass inside, I don't understand why they did that after they closed it up though.  I was good to go though.

It was to everyone’s surprise that I did that, so then they must of figured out that something really was bothering me. Once I felt better I went back to my normal self. Over the next week I kinda ignored my ex-boyfriend, didn’t even look at him..... Though I did stare at him sometimes, I would look and turn away when he looked. I missed him even more. There was football game that Friday and I of course didn't go because I didn’t really want to see him that day and because I had gone to the mall that day. I went home and slipped into my bed. After the game was over he called me, it was unexpected because well, I didn’t expect him to do that.

I don’t know why, he always did the same thing when we broke up.

        He asked me to go to the office to talk. I went, and we sat down to talk. I knew it was hard for me to say what he had to say because he was the type that didn’t or doesn’t show any emotions. He said “I know I fucked up before, but I miss you alot and want you... I know I messed up but I’ll change, I won’t be an asswhole to you anymore... I mean I know you want to be friends but I had to try and if you just want to do that, Its okay I understand but I had to try.” I thought it was sweet that he did that but I didn’t know what to say but I did know that I missed him. And to be honest, I wanted him back too. I stood up and went to hug him. He was sweaty and smelled like their nasty gloves that probably are never washed.

The fact that he did that and the fact that I missed him too just made me want it all back but I wasn’t sure that he understood why i decided to take a break from him and everything else. No one did but Sharina, and the fact that there was more drama in my house than in the whole campus made it worse cause it was just irritating. I really just needed someone to talk to, someone who I can trust and tell every single of my thoughts too, I had my boyfriend but I couldn’t tell him everything because theres just a certain limit of things to tell them. I had found a new friend though, my housemate in my house, the one that rushed to my room as soon as she heard the glass brake, Jazmine was one of a kind. I mean, she really was trustworthy and for some reason I trusted her right away. It had come naturally to trust her, we got closer and closer as the days go by.        

I had the stupidest, funniest moments with her. It was like I could be myself around her, and she could be too. She just had the chillest, calm, natural, funny, caring and loving way of being. She someone that you can call a true friend. Even though I had moment where I was bipolar and just changed from happy to angry and irritated, she understood and was there to ask me what was wrong. I trusted my boyfriend to tell him more things though, he calmed me down and at the end would tell me to not worry about it so much and to not let it ruin my day. I didn’t, I always try not to worry so much about things.... Sometimes I was sick and tired of crying and dealing with everything. I really do a good job at hiding when something is on my mind and making irritated or sad.

I knew that I had to put aside all my feelings and thoughts to continue on with my schedule, I had to make up work that I didn’t do because it was dragging me down. I didn’t feel like doing anything but I had to push myself because I wanted that future for me, I wanted to go to UCLA and drive my own car and have my own place. All my life all I really wanted was to be independent or just be away from anyone in the foster system or my current life. I adore my family, I love them with all my heart but I don't and can’t understand so many things.

A few year back, when my aunt decided to take me in and my mother couldn’t stand that idea, I asked her why she hates her so much. All I got was....”she’s not who you think she is.... She caused me a lot of harm”. So did my grandmother, I know she did... She cause both my brothers and sister a lot of harm back in Russia. I don’t understand why, how can any human being cause any harm to someone they love or is related to them? I didn’t let myself get distinct with my aunt because I didn’t know what she had done and she had helped me, she took me in when I needed a place, a home and someone to be there for me. I wasn’t that ungrateful, even though I could never find the time to say it to her, I really was. I loved her for everything she had done, for taking me in when she had problems of her own. I  had messed up so much with her, I felt bad for everything I had done... for worrying her so much, for causing even more problems. I finally did get to say sorry and thank you to her when I got the guts to do it, I came from the bottom of my heart.

Even though I didn’t really like going on pass, I had to make an effort. There was days when I felt beaten up because i just missed my mom and wanted to see her at least for five minutes. My auntie would look at my face and notice something was wrong, by heart or because of previous events, she knew it was related to my mother. She would tell me that it wasn’t our fault that all this happened, that our mother didn’t know how to be a mother and thats why God didn’t want to give her kids. I hated her so much when she said that, I couldn’t understand why in the hell she would tell me that. I grew up knowing that that were supposed to respect the person who gave you life, even if she wasn’t there next you every moment, you should be thankful to be alive.

I understood why my aunt said all that and even though it made me cry, I didn’t let it get to me. I knew how my mother is, and I see why people say what they say but for some reason It’s only me that sees the good in her. To me she is a loving mom, who loves her kids a lot and would do anything for them, even though it didn’t seem like it. For some reason, my brother got distinct with her, I don’t understand why because he was always the favorite one to my mom. He always got what he wanted, the fact that I went back home first and he stayed made me think that he would appreciate her more. I was wrong, but to this day he only talks to her to ask for something or just to say hello. I can’t imagine a child not loving his mother, I knew he loved her alot and cared so much for her deep down. It had always been hard for him to show any feeling but anger.

Maybe it was his childhood that made him so angry towards my mom. I was only six and don’t remember everything that we lived through when we were in russia and the first five years of living in the U.S. The fact that he was the one always getting in fights and arguments with my stepdad, and was the one my mom got mad at when he did, made him resent her for picking his side. One day when I was back at my moms and so was my brother, Gregory had gotten in an argument with my stepdad, I stepped in and said “leave him alone!”

“You're always picking sides!”

I didn’t know she was going to react like that but she did.......

SLAP!

Yes, I cried. I was maybe like five when I got my first slap in the face. After that day, I became officially scared of my mom. I knew to never talk back to her again. My brother resents her for so many things, but as I noticed that, I learned that he didn’t know how to forgive. gregory and I were little demons when put together, one day when I was with him and his friend, we both decided to traspas a closed school. It was the stupidest idea but I thought it was cool. We got in the building, we saw that every single window was already broken somebody else, we wondered around for a few minutes when we hear..... “Hey, who’s there?”

We hid behind cabinets where my “six to six” used to be, we got caught two minutes later.......... The cops grabbed us and of course asked us a whole bunch of questions. All we said was “we didn’t do it.”  They took us down to the police station and took a few mugshot pictures of us, that was my first mugshot ever.  They took us back to the school so that my mom and stepdad can pick us up. When we get there my mom is furious with us.

“What were you guys thinking?!”

My brother started going of on how he didn’t our stepdad and the cops stand there and listen, one of the police officers step in.

“Who pays your bills? Who gives you shelter? Who feeds you?’

Even though I didn’t like my step dad, I had to agree with him. The man did feed us, pay our bills and gave us shelter. My mom did too though, I was thankful to her for being and in the best she can do. life with mom wasn’t the best but i was good, even  I never said it. It was never my intention to separate my brother and me from here, and as much as people tell me it wasn’t my fault and I couldn’t have stopped it, I feel like it was. The facts point at me, all the evidence did. They can’t and won’t understand how it falls together, every single event that happened was because of me. The fact that every one tried to help me out all through my life and expected so many good things of me made me feel even worse. No one really knew how I was, even though I always did good in school, I was never good in my behavior part.

in six grade, a had a group of friends that were into weed and alcohol, most of the time they only drank. I got in it because I really just liked to drink too, who doesn’t? Anywho, one day I decided to bring two small Smirnoff bottles that my stepdad had in the t.v stand. I took them to school and drinked with a bunch of other people in lunch, since someone was suspecting already, I gave the bottle to a girl I knew because I thought they were gonna search me. Going to fith period, she stops and tells me... “Their gonna call you up to the office and talk to you about the bottle.” For a second there, I had forgotten what she was talking about.

“Fuck are you serious man?!”

“Yeah, they looked through my backpack”

The girl had already a reputation of bringing stuff like that to school but for some dumb reason I didn’t think of that before handing them to her. I didn’t know that all that could get me expelled.

They called me up the next day, Mr.Drapeau was nice but not that nice. He was the type of guy that had a beautiful family with two adorable kids, and the kind that made exceptions. I was known in that school for having good grades and getting along with teachers, the type that respected the teachers but wasn’t a teachers pet. He told me that I would have to wait and see what the school district would say about me staying in San Diego’s schools. I was scared that I had mess up my whole life for one stupid little mistake but I was also scared about what my mom was gonna say and do. It was really rare to have my mom come to my school because she just never showed up for anything that had to do with school. I had seen her face when she arrived, the women didn’t look at me because she was so mad and disappointed in me.

She walks in, I walk in and man did I already want to walk out. Mr.Drapeau told her the same thing, so i really don’t see why he just didn’t call her. When we got home, I walked into my room and layed down. I hear my mom calling but I delay it.... I walk in...

“Sit down..” So I do.

“I’m not mad at you, I disappointed in you... i do expect better of you but I understand because you're only thirteen years old and I was your age once.... “

I said nothing throughout the whole talk...

“I know I’m always working but I do it for you and your brother, so that i can give you what you guys need”

In that moment, a tear came out because I knew how hard she worked everyday and she didn’t need me to go and make more problems or for her to be worried about me. I was surprised that she didn’t punished me or say something that was going to make me feel even worse for doing what I did. The next day, I had a meeting with Mr.drapeau to talk about me staying in school.. He said..
“Well your an outstanding school and I know you can do better than what you did, your grades saved you”

I was thankful to have good grades and to have a lot of good things going towards me.  I never realized how even though I’m having a bad day or just a bad experience, I always have good things shooting for me. i’ve always had the support that I needed but never took advantage of it.  Being in the foster system gives us, kids, the opportunity to go to college and have so many other good things. I didn’t realize that there was much more worse things happening to other children and people around the world. When I was in sixth grade a had an English teacher who was very demanding, one day she gave us a project to do on the “Lost Boys of uganda.” They were kids who were left their homes to run away from Joseph Kony. That project is one of the reason why I appreciate and think before I act.

The Child soldiers were little kids who were taken away from their families and were trained to fight and shot guns. Girl’s were used for rape, oral sex and were killed. It came to show me that even though I’m going through something bad, theres other kids going through something worse. I had to do something about it, so I wrote a letter to the president Of the United States of America. I wrote how it wasn’t fair how we can just stand and watch millions of kids be killed and rape and not doing nothing at all to stop it. It was right around the time after President Obama got elected and got put in office. Luckily for us, he wrote back. He wrote on how he was going to take matters into his own hands and will try his best to get help in Africa. I never heard any news regarding that.

It took a few years for the U.S to do something about it, but in 2012, kony was captured and then set free. I can’t and won’t understand how people can sit there while millions of people are abused, raped and killed. My point being made here is that there’s a lot that we take for granted, a lot of things that we don’t appreciate, a lot of things we don’t take advantage of and push away because we're ignorant and blind, and choose to not see what we have going for us. I hated everyone who tried being nice to be just because I was in the foster system.

Coming to N/A’s group home changed my life. Before I took the decision the decision to come here, my brother had told me not to because he I wasn’t going to like it. He was the bad kid, the one that never went to school and did whatever he wanted. I was different, i loved school and I respect the rules most of the time. It wasn’t how he described it, I did hate being watched all day, for every day of the week but at least I had food and a room that was mine. It gave me the opportunity to achieve more things, to look at other things through someone else’s view. I realized how my whole life I’ve had support to do good in life, people actually believed that I had the potential to do something with myself and be someone in life.

For me, there was days when I didn’t even want to get out of bed.... i knew had to though, I had to push myself and keep going. I know that even though my mom couldn’t see everything that I was doing, she would be proud of me for all my accomplishments.  Atleast thats how I liked to think of it. My dad was never in my life, I had never even seen a picture of the man. My mother always told me that he left us for someone else and that he left right before she started to show when she was pregnant with me. It hurt me because i was the only one that didn’t know my dad, well Gregory didn’t either. But gregory didn’t care, he didn’t like that man for leaving us behind. I wanted to give him a chance. My aunt had told me that he was a good man, but my mom didn’t know how to value him. He gave her everything she ever wanted.... Land, money, jewelry and loved her with all his heart. I didn’t know who to believe because on one said there was my mom who said he just made her unhappy and left us, and on the other side was my aunt who said he was the perfect man for my mother.

I never understood why my aunt and mom never got along. I did know that I disliked the rest of my family for the way they treated my sister, Selene. She got pregnant when she was just seventeen years old, she only had one man in her life. She had picked the wrong one though, he was disrespectful and abusive to her and their kids. She had three more little boys with him, i took a while for my mom to convince her to leave with the kids. When she did, he left them behind. The fact that she did that got me so upset and mad. I didn’t know that It wasn't her fault, the guy didn’t let her leave with them. Who knows why... he didn’t even seem to care about them.  My sister left to another state and met her second husband. He was different, he treated her with love and care. I was scared that he was going to turn exactly like the other one, but he didn’t they fell in love soon after they met.

They had a beautiful baby girl a year later, she was the smallest and cutest little baby that I had ever seen. I wanted to take her home with me but her mother said no. Even though I was happy to see my sister happy and starting her life all over again, it made me upset that her kids were suffering with a man who wasn’t taking care of them like he should be. It was irritating to see something happen and can’t do anything about it. I had way more feeling towards seeing my family get hurt. I didn’t like my mother being depressed, and not being how she used to be. I hated seeing my brother throw away his life little by little, and not realizing what he's doing. It hurt me the most to be in this place and couldn’t be there to take care of them. I wanted to be there so bad, I felt the need to be there.

My social worker didn’t understand that, she didn’t understand that a mother needs her kids and a child needs her mother. My brother needed someone guide him through, someone to take care of him. I was the only one who understood that, not even my mother felt like I did.  Do you ever get that feeling when you just have to do something about what you're seeing or going through? I think everyone has atleast one time in their life. My mom being more and more careless about my brother each day worried me because neither of them were like that, deep down they both were caring and loving people. They both had lost hope and were angry at the facts.

The feeling that you get when you're all alone and you have no one to talk to about your feelings and thoughts, is the one that keeps you going sometimes. It makes you stronger but it also makes you weak, it lets you reflect on how much better you can do and at the same time, it gets to you and makes you do things you never thought of doing. My life had to get better, I needed it to get better.... For me, for my mother, my family, and just people around me. I couldn’t help anyone without being me, or being healthy both emotionally and physically. I decided to take another road, another road separate from drugs, depression and things that got me to no good. I wanted to achieve my goals, not just do it for me but for my mom and for the people who I know will be proud of me. My relationship with my boyfriend was different, It started to change little by little. Even though we had minor arguments and moments that we were just mad, he would still understand and be there for me.

It was three years ago that I got seperated from my mother, for the last two years I had hated Thanksgiving because it was the anniversary of my separation. This year I decided to spent it away from my family, I decided to visit my housemate in the hospital. I didn’t want her to spend it alone. I wanted her to know that she has people who care and are here for her. She was all drugged up with all the medicine they gave her, I layed down next to her and hugged her. She knew I missed her... “I had a dream, It was like I had no one and I woke up crying”

“You know you're not alone, you have a lot of people back at home who really care about you, and thats why I’m here boo”

She starts crying and lays her head on my shoulder. I didn’t know how else to put it to her, she wasn’t alone. I didn’t want to leave her feeling like that, I know I wouldn’t want to be left like that. It was time to go home though, I hugged her one more time and told her.... “I miss you, and I love you... Don’t you forget that and I'll see you when you get home boo.”

Its irritating to see something and not do something about it.  

I went home that day and thought about what I was thankful for, everything and everyone came to my mind. My mom for giving birth to me and being the mother she was, because even though she had bad moments, she was my mother and I wouldn’t want to change her for anybody in the world. There was also my brother who was stubborn and had a temper most of the time but learned to ease it over time, even though he didn’t show emotions, I knew how he felt and I was thankful to have him in my life because without him, I wouldn’t have gotten through all this alone. There was my boyfriend, who I got in fights with and broke up a million times but keep going back to each other every single time,I was thankful to have a boyfriend who understood what I was going through, one that cared and asked a million times what was wrong with me even when I made him mad. There was also my bestfriend, who I also made mad at and was a bitch to at times, but she understood and hugged me and cleaned my blood when it needed to be cleaned.  I also had friend who did the same thing but wasn’t so much of a friend at times, and there were the teachers that care enough to let you have your moments and let you curse at them when its needed.

There was so many things to be thankful for and I had never realized it until this thanksgiving. My life is so much better than I thought, I had everything …. well everything to be happy and live a good comfortable life... for now. My thanksgiving day was good this year, it made me reflect on my life and others, I had a good dinner that my staff cooked and  watched more than a few movies. It was everything I wanted. I didn’t call my mom to wish her happy thanksgiving because I just knew it was going to be a hassle trying to get her to be happy and not mad. I wish I did have my brother though, I wanted to enjoy all the food with him. We both loved food, and we both were alike in so many ways that neither of us knew.

My social worker took my passes with my brother away, It made me mad and irritated that she didn’t take in consideration anything that I had told her. I needed her to know that whatever happened with my brother was years ago and doesn’t affect me anymore. I learned to let go, well I was always the type that didn’t hold any grudges against people but my mom. i loved my brother and wanted to be there to protect him from anything or at least to help him out. I have always had his back, no matter what, even if we were mad at eachother he knew I was there for him. He wanted me to live with him because when I was younger he had promised me that he was going to work, get his own place and take me in. Thats all I really wanted, I wanted to live with my brother so that we can make our own lives.

None of that happened, the fact that all this happened before that process made me feel like I really messed up. I knew there was I reason why I didn’t trust anyone, especially a person who works for the government... So I guessed that was my stupid move. I just needed to get everything out of my system though, I couldn’t hold it in much longer than I had. It felt good to vent to someone else. I wanted so bad to have a normal life, go to a normal high school, and just be a normal teenager. Though my mom didn’t agree for me to live with him because she thought it would mess up my life, I didn’t care because he’s my brother and the fact that she said that made me think that she has no faith in him. She doesn’t know what hes gonna make of his life, were his gonna end up at or as what hes gonna end up as.

I know and have faith in him because hes smart and he just needs to focus and do what he actually knows and needs to do. He was smart enough to graduate high school on time and smart enough to get a job after. My mom had probably lost all faith in us, she thought that we had messed up so bad in life. She probably thinks that we messed up her life, well thats what I think sometimes. Though she has an attitude at times and just acts like she doesn’t care, makes me think that she doesn’t when she really done. She’s tired of this life we’ve been living since we came to the United States.

Coming to the U.S was another story, it really did change my life, my brothers and sister, and my mom. Its said that you can have a better life in the U.S with a good job, a good place to live, just a comfortable life. I always think that even though I wouldn’t had enough clothes, toys, or more things or food, I would have been happy with my family. I don’t mind doing everything I can to survive if I have them by my side because I know they’ll be there to support me in every step I make. I know I’m right because my family had a hard life and they learned to lean on each other for whatever they had needed. I admit, it wasn’t so bad coming to the U.S but life could have been easier or at least “softer” on the other side.

I learned a lot of things throughout my whole life, only being sixteen and having myself to lean on... It was hard to understand and do things. Maybe thats what got me to be so understanding and calm now in life. I find a way to deal with whatever I’m going through and continue life. I can never let anything hold me back because then I just mess up my order,,my plans, myself and my emotions. I learned to control my anger and not be so holding back on things. I want to live a calm, adventures, comfortable, funny, and happy life. Though I know I’m going to face more problems throughout my life, I’m ready for them and I know now how to handle every single one.

I didn’t want people or events to define who I am, I want to be myself and grow more and more mature as I go. I want to achieve my goals not just for me but for my mom and my family. I want to be a role model for all those young girls and boys who don’t think they can make it, to let them know that you don’t have to have your family or anyone with you just so that you can be someone in life or to make the best out of yourself. There’s always a way out, a way that will hopefully lead you through the right way. And if you ever feel like giving up before your start or when you're in the middle of something, just push yourself. Tell yourself that you're almost done and you can do it. It’s never to get your life back on track.

One day i had a girl tell me that she sees me as weak and as someone who can’t protect their self. I knew she was wrong. I know I’m stronger, otherwise how did I get through everything that happened in my life? The fact that I didn’t know how to fight or that I’m not a fighter doesn’t make me weak. I know I can do whatever I put my mind too. Maybe thats why I keep myself to me, people will never understand me or know my real self. They don’t have to though. I learned to trust on my journey, I know that I can’t trust everyone but that I can not, not trust everyone.

Christmas was almost here and even though I was used to being at this group home, I wanted to leave. Even though I didn’t plan it and it was going to take me out of his place, I didn’t know how I was going to do it. I’m pregnant and happy to be but I didn’t know what was going to happen, deep down I was scared. I decided to leave to a foster home, back to my old foster mom’s place. I didn’t want to go to any other teen pregnancy schools. I still wanted a normal life for me and my child. I was happy, filled with joy because I know I’m going to love my baby more than anything in this world but I was scared at the fact that anytime, my boyfriend can bale out.

I trust him to be there but I wouldn’t be able to take it if he isn’t. I just need him to hang and do what he is supposed to do.... be there for the baby and me. Besides the fact that I am pregnant at sixteen and that I’m a foster kid, I had in my head that I was going to make it somehow. I had to concentrate in school now more than ever, and I had not get my grades up. Besides, I still want to go to UCLA and become an engineer or a mechanic. I didn’t want to tell anyone at the time. I knew that they were not going to expect it from me but hopefully they’ll understand instead of being all defensive. And if the didn’t, well I don’t need them to understand, I just need them to be there at least. My mom was another worry, I didn’t know how to tell her. I knew she was going to b mad but somehow inside me, I had hope that she will somewhat happy or excited.

I had to tell her, I wanted her to be the first one to find out but I know that she is going to bring it up against my social worker somehow. She’ll probably blame her for not watching me and letting this happen. The women is just over protective but she does have a right to be. Though she hasn’t been so much in life, I loved her to death and she always came first before anything. It had been a while since I last called her, I was feeling guilty. It sounded as if she was dieing slowly, little by little and I didn’t know what to do. Its the old things that affect me, or maybe just the fact that I was or am there to witness it and can’t or don’t do anything about it.

It all came back to me when Charlotte and me sat down one day and out of nowhere, our family came into the conversation. We started talking about our moms, and how they took their husbands side. It was hard for me, for the first time I couldn’t talk about it without tears coming out of my eyes. We both mentioned how we forgave them but in my case, I couldn’t even see the man or look him in the eyes. I had forgiven him but he still discussed me, and the fact that my mom leane to his side made it even harder. I was happy though that she had forgiven him, it was time for her to go home and I didn’t’ want her to feel uncomfortable being at her own house. I was happy for her, at least one of us was going to get what we’ve been wanting on what seemed forever.

Though we had moments, Charlotte was important to me. She was there most of the times that I needed her, or when she was available. It mattered to me, I can’t explain how but the weirdest people get into my heart wit the weirdest ways. It hurt me the most because I knew that they are going to leave sooner or later but usually sooner. I was used to it but at the same time it hurt me more than anything to see them leave. I wished that one day, I would be able to go home too. Though, “it was impossible”. Well thats how others saw it and how I began to see it but I tried to not lose hope.

I was excited for Christmas, because for the first time... I had a boyfriend, who I can spend it with. I felt good about going to visit my family too because all the problems were gone, It wasn’t going to be a complicated Christmas like the years before. My family’s spark of being together on a holiday seemed to fade away though. I wasn’t with them on Thanksgiving, and nor my aunt or cousins got together to celebrate it either. I wanted them to be united and feel like a family, a family who for one day has no issues, no fights or arguments. The whole year was hectic, every one had money issues, family issues, job issues, health issues and just two little things lit up the whole year. The arrival of Jaslynn and of course, the other little princess, Jaylnn.

They both made everyone gather together and share a smile. It was my first time meeting Jaslynn and I was scared to hold her. Scared that she would slip out of my arms because she was so tiny. I had not yet told anyone about my pregnancy, I didn’t plan to until I showe. I was excited to have a little girl or boy like Jaylnn or Jaslynn. The fact that both their names ended with “Lynn” was funny. It was planned though.

Christmas wasn’t so bad, we all gathered at my cousins place and ate my aunt’s food. After that, I spent time with my boyfriend. I didn’t want to leave him out, so I invited him to my family’s little gathering. He was the first boyfriend that I had introduced my family to. They were all excited to finally met him and I was nervous but happy that they finally did. Besides, they were going to have to met him eventually. It felt like as if I was dreaming because it was all good and chill. There was no fights, no nothing.

I knew I was going to leave the group home eventually but time flew by fast. I had already been two months into my pregnancy and I wanted to leave before my belly popped out. I left to my old group home, I had been there five or six years ago. My foster mom was nice and supporting, thats why I decided to go back to her. Everything went well, she accepted the fact that I was still in high school and pregnant. I don’t know how but she understood.

To be honest, I was scared that I wasn’t going to be able to give my baby the life that I had always wanted. I didn’t him or her to live or have anything close to my life. I was scared that I nothing was going to come out how I had planned. Initially, I wanted to finish school and go to college. Many people told me that Its going to be hard to raise a kid and continue my education at the same time. I didn’t want him or her to suffer from anything or get hurt in any kind of way.

I needed help and support from anyone, most importantly from my baby’s dad. I didn’t want to have my kid with no dad, I want and need him to be their. I knew how it felt to not have a dad, I wanted that protection from him. I don’t even know if the man knew that I existed. Well, thats what my brother and sister say or tell me. I don’t care, I still wanted to give him a chance and get to know him. Spend father and daughter time. It would have been nice. I just hope that deep down he knows what hes gonna have to do and that I want him to be there for our child’s whole life.

When school started, I had to go. I had no choice because I didn’t want to be a dropout teenage mom. I was a little timid but I mean all this was my fault for not using protection and following all those other rules. People were nice to me though, they had an interest for the baby. I thought that they were going to be like “ugh, whore”... That was all in my head. I was worried about what other people were going to say.

I kept my grades up though, I focused on my studies and on getting what I needed to make sure that my baby was healthy. Five months in and my belly wasn’t all that good. I was nervous about going to the doctor cause I was afraid that they were going to tell me that something was wrong with my baby. I didn’t know what I got myself into,I was scared of everything. One, of losing my baby, I was scared to have a miscarriage or that the doctor would tell me that the baby was sick or something like that. Two, I obviously didn’t know what I got myself into. I was, or am a stupid teenager. Three, I didn’t know how I was going to pay for the diapers, the food, the clothes, the bottles and all those other stuff.  Three, I wasn’t so sure if my boyfriend was going to stick around or leave.

Either way, I knew somehow I was going to make it. I had to, for my kid and me. I had felt like I disappointed everyone with this situation. Back at the group home, I had so many people that encouraged me to do good. They wanted me to go to college and have a good life. I knew that my aunt was disappointed because she always told me to be careful and to not get pregnant so young. My mom was probably mad at the system more than anything, she didn’t want to understand all this was my fault, not theirs. She didn’t want to understand that all that happened was my fault. Not the county’s or the government’s. Mine, nobody else's but mine.

Even though I had many people tell me that it wasn’t and that I shouldn’t feel bad..... I did. Because the truth was that it really was mine, I believe in my head that reason why we came to be in the foster system for the first time was my fault, my brother wasn’t the one that left crying to school. He wasn’t the one that led the police officer to believe or think that something may have been happening at home. I blamed myself for letting my brother have such a hard life, for letting him get so distant from my mom. It wasn’t about not feeling bad but it was about manning up to what happened and what I did. I was tired of letting people believe that I was the innocent one because no one really knows me. Yes there’s people who see my bad side but they really don’t me. They didn’t know about everything that I had done, they only knew the good things that I did.

The way I felt wasn’t going to change anything that already had happen. I got tired of living the life i did. I realized that nothing was gonna help my situation if I didn’t change. I had to stop being so lazy, son ignorant and stupid. I decided to end my relationship because besides all the good times we had, there were more fights and arguments than anything. I got tired of being treated like “nothing”. Besides all that, I think that I was the one not ready for the relationship, or mature enough, at least in this case. It kinda hurt me that he thought that I don’t care but what else was I gonna do? It was time to move on. Even though I really did have feelings for him and it took me nearly twenty minutes and him getting mad to say that I want to be friends, I was okay. The fact that I can’t even look at him without regretting my decision was hard.

Past that issue, my classes were irritating me. I let everything go and started not to care for a little while, I mean like a week at least. Sense I got in trouble and I had my best friend and the person who I saw as a dad, not talk to me and  really hurt me. It hurt me to see how they somewhat ignored me and were disappointed in me for my actions. Its funny how my new year’s resolution was to stop arguing so much with my boyfriend, to stop getting in trouble and to pick up my grades, and then I do what I do.

I wanted to end this story with a “happily ever after” but thats only in fairy tales. My life isn’t the best but it isn’t the worst. I’m happy to be who I am and to have the people I have. I don’t want my actions do define who I am but sometimes thats what happens and I got tired of taking the wrong decision and not making it right. Logic was to stop screwing up. I always tend to go more with logic and reason, it makes sense to have someone in the world out of seven million people care and love you. And if that one person doesn’t, then you have you. Thats how I thought of it. I let go of what my step dad did to me, it hurt to see my mother not care and believe but those are the facts and nothing was going to change them, it was time I let go. I had to move on and focus on my future.