My Life in Hell

Chapter 1

I'm going to start off be saying if you didn't read the description then, I don't want any complaints in the comments. This story is a recounting of MY LIFE. Theres no lies, no additional 'just to make you feel better about this shit' and I'm only going to kid friendly my preteen years to accurately describe my experience during those years.  Dont like this or want to read a story about reality then don't. I wont stop you from leaving this in your "not happening" folders. There that's been said and done, time for the story.

I was born in a city called El Paso. It's a border community in Texas. It's best known for white sands missile range a few hours away. The city itself houses Fort Bliss military base. Now I know President Trump said a few things about my home town. I honestly cant agree because I never saw any of that. I digress point is I spent a good portion of my life there and ya it's got issues, but I still live the place.

I was born there in 1988 on October 23. I was named Trisha Leann Morris. After my mother Patricia Ann. My dad Jeffrey Morris gave me my name. I still treasure it in my way to this day. My mother always told me she wasn't too thrilled I was given her favorite nickname. Now seeing as I was just a baby I don't remember my brother being born.

My brother Jeffrey Allen Morris was born a few short months later. August 29, 1989. Ten months later to be exact. Now I'm sure many of you reading can already picture us because well you probably know us. Not going to lie that's ok. You know our older teen drama. I'll get to that later ok be patient.

Many of you who don't know us I'm sure noticed my brother was named after our dad right? Great makes this easy. Mom did that as payback for my name. If this isn't setting up some family dynamic yet then either I'm doing this wrong or it's still too soon to see it.

Oh well at least you know we exist. There you have it our names and birthdays and of course our place of birth. Google us you'll find us no joke. I'll wait for you. You done? Can I continue? Well to bad if you haven't cause I'm continuing.

Now I really don't remember too much of the first four years of my life. So all this part is the family stories from aunts, uncles and so on that match up ok. So dont sue or bite my head of for these.

From the moment I was able to help I was. In little ways mind you, I was throwing out my brother's dirty Pampers and helping with his baths ya know those things that a walking toddler can do. According to most of my family I didn't hit the terrible 2's, my brother did but I didn't.

I find that hard to believe but meh all the stories add up there so I cant and wont argue. I was the oddball good kid go figure. My brother on the other hand was hit hard by the 2's.

He did the tantrums the favorite word being 'no'. He was biting and punching everyone he threw everything at anyone. Pulling off his diaper with poop in it and running around butt naked. To most parents and older siblings this is normal.

What you don't see is this lovely story from a two year old. Now one afternoon our mother had a brilliant idea. Make her oldest a dress, now ya sweet stuff I know. It was pink frilly and neon purple overlay. I had that dress as a keepsake for many years. I'm getting ahead here sorry.

Ok well after mom made the dress she kinda need to make sure it fit me properly. Well here's the kicker I was napping when she needed that done. So can you guess who she put in the dress? Bingo she put it on Jeff! He wore it knowing it was for yours truly  as she made all the little adjustments to it. Well all that didn't involve sewing outright.

When she was done she told him he needed to take off "sisters dress". Now prepare to die laughing ok, ready good. That boy  jumped off the stool he was on and ran away from our mother say "no my dress my dress" at the top of his lungs. Dummy woke me from my nap doing that stunt.

Needless to say I bawled my eyes out. Mom had fun with this. I was crying and Jeff was hiding somewhere in MY DRESS happy as a clown. Well took the poor woman twenty minutes to calm me down before she had to hunt down my brother.

She finally got him out of the dress and finished the small adjustments. He wasn't too happy but he got over it. Now heard the kicker you all are obviously wondering where my dad in this mess?

They divorced around this time. My dad was overseas dealing with desert shield desert storm thing. Yes that's a real military thing, look it up kids, Google it. Now I can't say exactly why they divorced just that they did. I've heard so many stories I don't know what is truth.

He cheated on her, my grandparents made her do it, blah blah blah. Dont care the reason anymore that's their drama. I was two and a half when this happened. All I know is she was remarried and I was adopted by her second husband by the time I was three.

So most of you know me by that name. Trisha Leann Nelson, that's my maiden name now. Graduated under that name. Google it if you don't believe me, you'll find me if you don't know me already.

So here we get into the fuzzy parts of my memory. Mind you these are MY MEMORIES fogged up on some details but accurate enough that I KNOW WHAT I REMEMBER.