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Hear mine,

I was born in Chicago, Illinois. My mother was a teenage prostitute...and my father was a foreign exchange student from some fucking place in the U.K. Fuck if I know exactly where. I can remember the old house of that blonde whore's mother. My grandmother despised me with the passion of millions of Mel Gibsons. I was a mistake, and I think we know how I was conceived, now don't we? I stayed with them for two years before my mother gave me away, not to an adoption agency, but illegally to a family with enough problems. Allow me to explain what had happened to these people, their child had died in the womb late during the pregnancy, so they took me in to fill the void of the death. I did not have my own birth certificate, but they contacted their doctor and my godfather in Mexico, explained it all to him and made me a fake birth certificate, saying I was born on January 30Th, 1998, which was my một giây birthday. I was born on 1996, but since that wasn't quite an option to do, they had to take 1998. The man I had called father was an abusive chain-smoking alcoholic and the woman I called mother was addicted to prescription drugs. They divorced around when I was 6...

Fast phía trước, chuyển tiếp now. I'm a 7 năm old surrounded bởi 5 năm olds in kindergarten. I was way smarter than all of these children due to it, and my teachers thought I was some sort of fucking prodigy, but I am the exact opposite. I was also a little bloody deviant, I used to play everyone for fools and take anger out on other people, so I didn't have many friends. As I grew older, I started to notice thêm and thêm about the world around me, and how it works. I slowly figured out how awful and horrible it is. bởi the time I was 13 I started to hate everything because of it. I despised all of the world's hatred and misery, which made me get into depression. I started getting paranoid at this point, because I did truly believe people were out to bring me down to their awful level hoặc misery.

This is not a question.

I was born in 1996
My parents chẻ, phân chia, split when I was two months old.
My father was abused as a child and that led to flaws in his character that I couldn't realize till I looked back on it in hindsight.
For the most part of my childhood I watched my parents fight over and over again. My father still had partial custody rights over me so I went to visit him often. That part wasn't so bad. he was a kind loving man and I enjoyed the time we spent together. I loved my parents but we were never a family. And that was saddening to me. It was either My dad and I hoặc my mom and I. There was never an us.
My dad was getting better at being a father as I grew older...he was trying his best. But then his mom died. And it crushed him. His father followed shortly after that. He Mất tích his job and as always the relationship between him and my mother was strained. He broke into our house and nearly strangled my mom to death.
I still don't know why.
And the dumbest thing was that after that my mom pretended that everything was fine. It wasn't BULLSHIT if it was. The fights got worse. I was around 10 hoặc 11. My mom filed a restraining order against my dad.
But for reasons unbeknowst to me that fell through.
A năm later for giáng sinh my dad got me a puppy. I named him Jeff. I heard them screaming at each other as I held Jeff in my arms and sat on the stairs crying. My mom sold him without me knowing. She đã đưa ý kiến it was because she doesn't want chó but I know she did it just to spite my dad.
I don't know what's happened to him now...I haven't talked to him in months.
:L
Ok I'm done.

... I'm not exactly willing to write my whole life story all over the internet... Sorry.

Hmmm where should I begin?

I guess at the beginning lol. Ok so I live with my grandmother because she is old and ill. I used to live in Luân Đôn (thats where I was born)

In Luân Đôn I didnt have many Những người bạn just one boy named Daniel.
We were rly rly good friends. I always sort of had a crush on him. Anyways, everything was going good untill my grandmother needed me to go care for her in the U.S. I was excited but sad.

Daniel told me he loved me and we started dating but then there was a fire. I was stuck but then Daniel managed to get me out but not himself. The fireman tried to save him but they couldnt because of some metal that was releasing fumes into the air. That only made the ngọn lửa, chữa cháy worse.

Daniel yelled to get me out of there and leave him. I didnt want to go and leave him to die alone. I tried to stop the fireman but they carried me out.

Now Daniel's dead. His parents hate me and say Im to blame for his death.
I still tình yêu him and I dont think I could ever di chuyển on from him. He was so special to me.

Now I feel like a murderer and I have this guilt on my mind all the time.
I dont have any Những người bạn and I need to talk to someone.