Life Pt 1

The bad thing about try to tell my story is where to even begin. For as long as I can remember, my life has been a living hell. Parents who didn’t give a shit about me, boyfriends who abused me, no one who really ever cared. Nothing about my life is happy. Nothing about my past is “good”.  But, against all odds, I made it out. I beat the statistics, by not becoming a statistic.

My name? Well, I don’t think that really matters, now does it? I grew up in a small town outside Indianapolis. Spent most of my days, and nights alone. Ya know, parents working or going out with friends, or whatever.  I wish that’s what my parents did. Dad left, don’t know when, don’t know why, honestly, I don’t even really remember him, except what he looked like, and his name. Gotta try blocking shit like that out, or I’ll go completely insane. My mom is a completely different story. You see, she never wanted kids. I was “a mistake” in her eyes. She had plans, hopes, and dreams. And guess who ruined that? Yep, me.  She blamed me for “ruining her life” basically since I was born. Honestly, I don’t think she has ever really cared about me, and if she did at one point, she SURE as hell didn’t show it. But enough about my mom, she’s just a heartless bitch anyway.

Then there’s Tony. The bane of my fucking existence. We were the cliche best friends who grew up on the same street turned boyfriend/girlfriend story.  Ya know, the one you see in movies? Yep, that was us. I’ve known Tony since I was 5. Went to elementary, middles, and high school with him. Hell, even went to college with him, because I was forced to. But more on that later.