It all started when my mom got pregnant with my brother. At the time we were living with my grandmother, in her three bedroom house. My mom and I shared my room, my younger sister kept her room, and my grandmother had hers. My grandfather spent his days in the living room, which is where he slept because my grandparents were "seperated". My dad, was never really in the picture. When I was younger my sister and I would spend a weekend or two, but never any longer. My mom and grandmother didn't like him at all, and after a huge custody battle between the three, my grandmother won. With my sister being only a year in a half younger than me, the thought of a new sibling was foreign. My mother decided that she needed her own place to support her two daughters and the new baby. We moved into a house with her best friend and everyone was happy. Of course every good thing has a downfall. They started fighting, and my mom and I moved out. My sister wanted to stay with my grandmother until we found somewhere as permanent as possible. My mom and I moved into an apartment complex and it was home. My sister came to live with us, and we were happy. Even though my sister and I had a new school, and many new adjustments, we made it work out. While getting settled in, our mom told us she was pregnant and we spent hours thinking on baby names.
There was a security guard at the apartments, and while we were never really the type to stay outside, we had a few friends, but we weren't to stay outside. It wasn't the safest place. Now don't get me wrong, it's a nice place, but it has its cons, like drugs and the alcohol. But it was okay, and we were fine. A little less than a year passed when our security guard quit. He was a good guy, he was nice and very friendly, but everyone knew that no guard stayed longer than about a year. Except the new guard, Danny.
