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For those of you who think you know me, trust me you don't. If you keep reading this page
you will get a little bit better of an insight on my life. For those of you who know nothing about me this is your chance
to get to know me a little.
I have a sister and a brother. Bethany and Alex. I currently lived with my mom living
a life I would rather throw away than live. My brother acts like he hates me, for what, I do not know. My sister lives
in Virginia at the moment with her best friend Amanda. I have hated life since I was three. I know that a lot of
people would like to contest with me on that, but they would lose. My parents got divorced when I was three, and we moved
a few miles away from my dad. That is when Kenny came into our lives. He used to be my dad's best friend. About a year and
a half later we ended up in Stockton. A short while after that Kenny married my mom. Not only did I get stuck with Kenny,
but I got stuck with Michael and Kenneth. Them alone were enough to lower my self esteem to a ultimate low. They would always
pick on me because they just plain hated me. I was the only person in that family that was picked on. My actual brother and
sister didn't defend me because half of the time they were taking part in it. I had no respect for my siblings, my mom, or
Kenny. They all had there share in making my life a living hell. Kenny was racist, so was his sons. My best friends just happened
to be Mexican. Their house at the time was the only place for me to escape the stupid people at my house. My step brothers
would only come on the weekends and trash our house. My sister and I would have to clean it. If we didn't clean it to Kenny's
standards, all hell would break loose. I am not as tough as I claim to be, yes I will hurt someone if I absolutely must. Other
than that I will just say stuff. I have to actually be mad in order for me to throw the first punch, and that is because my
sister taught me to be that way. I know what it feels like to have the crap beaten out of you. It is painful. That is exactly
what happened. My best friends live in Stockton and I grew up with them for seven years. In 7th grade we had to move. We moved
across the street from one of my classmates. She was asian and my step dad hated her. One day I came home and found out my
best friend that I told everything too was dead. He died January 8, 2003. He shot himself. At that time I gave up on everything
and decided to just run away from my problems. I moved to my dad's and everything went well. Over the summer I decided to
move back with my mom. I thought everyone changed, but I was wrong. Shit happens most of you know me from there. I will leave
the rest for you to fill in.
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