Friday, November 18, 2005

Wasted

My friends always asked me about my mom. All that I could say is that I don’t have one. My mother was never around because she had a drinking problem. So my grandmother took care of me and my brothers and sisters she like one of her own. She is like my mother. She always kept us clean and she always made sure that we were never hungry. I love her a lot. She’s a good woman.

My mom and dad have been divorced as long as I can remember. When I was little I can remember visiting my mother’s house for a weekend and seeing her so wasted that I took my little brother and went to my grandmother’s. I couldn’t stand seeing her like that. Her and her friends would drink all day. My little brother and sister lived with her for a few years. I felt so sorry for them because I knew what they were seeing every night. My mother never had good boy friends. They were all psychos.

My grandpa sent my mother to a very expensive rehab. When she came back everyone thought that she was better. A few weeks after she got home she got really wasted and went to my grandpa’s house and started a fight with him. My grandpa kicked her out and my mother went to my aunt’s house. My aunt convinced my mother to go to a long term rehab.

She has been there for about four years now. I saw her over the summer and now she looks great. It feels good to see her not wasted. I feel good now because now I at least know that she is trying.

But I will never forgive her for what she put the whole family through. My only real mother is my grandma Smith.

~George

Prison

My whole life has been painful. Since my friend went to prison. And my grandpa died. And I did drugs.

My grandpa died when I was three years old. I was so scared. All I remember is that I was at his house when it happened. I was playing with the dog. I went to go watch T.V. and he was dead. I did not know he was dead. I thought he fell asleep. When I tried to wake him he would not wake up. I started to cry. Then I started to hit him on the leg. He was not moving or waking up.

I went to get my grandma and she went into the living room and tried to wake him up as well. He would not wake up for anyone. She told me to go get the phone. I ran and got it. I brought the phone to her and she said, “Good girl.” She told me to go upstairs and play in my room. She called the hospital as I was on my way upstairs. I heard her tell them that my grandpa is not breathing and she thought he was dead.

They said it would be a half an hour before they got there. She said, “Hurry up, he is dying.” When they got there he was dead. They wrapped up in a body bag and took him away. We had a funeral for him.

When I was about thirteen years old I started to miss him and want him around. But I knew he could not be there any more. I started to blame myself for his death.

Then when we moved I met the wrong type of people. They did drugs. I went to a party and they offered me some and I took them. I did a lot of drugs. I did some stuff called Schoolboy, Candy, and marijuana. If you ask me its not a whole lot of fun. I did it since I was 13. For 1 and a half years I did them and it sucked. I always felt sick . But I stopped it and now that I’m 15 I feel great.

And then I moved to a new high school. Right after I moved my friend went to prison for raping my other friend. They were right in the middle of having sex. She yelled out, “Rape!” My life went down the drain. I started to drink and do drugs again. I hated him for going into prison. But we write each other. He gets out in May. And I am going to go see him as soon as he gets out. So I’m going to tell you this. Don’t stay mad at every one you love because you won’t get anywhere in life.

~Starry

The Time My Grandpa Died


The time that I had a bad time was when I heard that my grandpa got hurt. I did not find out about it until the next day when I went to the hospital and found out that he was going to be ok. So we went home and we got a call at about one in the morning.

We went back to the hospital and found out that he had died. So we went to talk to my grandma and she would not talk to us. We went home and she did not even tell us where the wake was going to be. We had to drive to her house and ask when the wake was.

She told us where it was but she would not give us any of grandpa’s belongings. She would not give me the A.T.V. that he bought for me. She sold the truck that he had. And she sold the golf cart that he had. And she sold the boat that he had. She took my paintball gun and she kept my bb gun and my .22 and all my other guns.

I wish that she would have given us all the stuff that she had.

~Michael

Thursday, November 17, 2005

My Story

In my life time I have gone through a lot. I know a lot of people do as well. I am fifteen and all in one year I lost my aunt, my little cousin, and I had to get rid of my dog. All of these things were important to me.

My aunt was so loving, every time you would step into her house you would feel like you were at home. She would ask, “Are you hungry? If you are, you better tell me so I can make you something to eat,” or she would say “Oh well, I’ll make you something anyway.” My aunt was one of those who cared about everyone she knew. I remember going to her house all the time to go swimming. Going to her house was so fun. It is hard to say she was my favorite aunt because I have ten aunts. But she is in the top five.

My little cousin (well, 2nd cousin) was born April 29, 2005. It took his mom three days to give him the perfect name. Everyone was so exited there was a new baby in our family. As the baby got about six weeks old, one of my aunts got in a fight with my cousin, the mother of the baby. My aunt was calling the baby very mean hateful names. See, my little baby cousin’s mom is white and his dad is black. There is no problem with that.

But anyway, my aunt left and my cousin put the baby to sleep, and went to sleep herself. It was about two in the morning and the baby started crying. My cousin got up to feed the baby. After that she put the baby back to sleep. On June 7th, 2005 my cousin woke up about seven in the morning. She wondered why the baby wasn’t crying. So she got out of bed to go see what was wrong. The baby was not breathing. My cousin called 911 then she called her mother. My cousin was so devastated. Her other child, who is one, woke up. My cousin thought something looked wrong then the 1-year-old started getting sick.

She thought that something was going wrong in their apartment. She rushed the other baby to the hospital. They found out he was just sensing something was going wrong. My aunt felt very bad about all of the mean things she said. But my cousin will never forget or forgive the hateful words my aunt said. To this day everyone wishes that the baby could have lived a full life instead of six weeks.

When I was about seven years old I wanted a dog. My mom said there is a lot of responsibility that comes with a dog. I knew that there would be. So we went out searching for a boxer because that is what I wanted. Around Christmas my mom got me a boxer. I named her Peanut. I named her that because she looked like a peanut. Right after my thirteenth birthday I had to get rid of her. It took about three to four months to find her a home. So before I knew it was almost my fifteenth birthday. Let’s just say those two birthdays were very sad. I am getting over it now that I am fifteen. But I still think of her all the time. I have a new little dog now and she is a little brat. I wish I still had Peanut, but I have to deal with what I have.

~Crista

My Dead Father

A lot of people ask me, “Do you know your dad?” I used to tell them that my dad died before I was born. I never really knew what having a father really was. I still don’t know what having a father is about.

My sister used to tell me stories. She used to tell me that my dad was dead at first, and then she finally told me that he was still alive and that he was a good guy, but a very bad dad.

My brother used to tell me stories after I got all the info out of my other sister. But his story was different. His story was true. He told me how it was. My father was a drug dealer in Chicago and every time he would see my brothers and sister and me he was drugged up.

See, my father wasn’t dead. I just had to do a little investigating to get to know the truth about what really happened between my father and my mom.

My father was a truck driver since he was 18 years old and he made real good money. Until he went and started living in Chicago, and everything went downhill from there. My father turned into a low life drug dealer, within a short period of time

He was fat when he started dealing drugs and when he stopped he was skinny and got back into trucking. That’s when his attitude started and he started hitting my mom. My father would be so bad that he took our TV from in front of us, and sold it for drugs. He slit the tires on my mom’s only car and we were without a car for a month.

I’m glad I never met him. I don’t think I ever do want to. The way the way that he treated my mom was terrible and there isn’t a person in the world that should have had to go through what my mom went through. I give my mother the greatest respect because of that. She lived to see another day with a real family. In my whole life he never was there for me and I don’t want to be there for him.

My mom was 29 when she had me and I am the middle child, and also a twin. I have 2 sisters and 3 brothers. The one oldest sister and my 3 brothers were all from my father. My mother got remarried and had my little sister.

I’m 16 now and my life is great and my mother after 16 years finally is getting child support and is taking all the money from it and buying my family’s Christmas presents with it.

My brother got ahold of my dad about 6 months ago and he wants to meet him. He really wants to see us and I thought that that was bull because he could have found us if he wanted to find us. The last time that my brother talked to him he hung up and he changed his phone number.

My brother is going out there to see my dad in Chicago soon. I am trying to convince him not to go out there to see him because he never tried to come out and try to find us in the past. I really wish that he would not go at all.

~Billy Bob