My parents, isn't the lightest topic to put in a narrative. First let me start, I don't have a mom. My parents are gay. I have two dads which is just the way I like. They haven't caused any harm. I guess it makes the story boring because every story has some downhill part. Mine is more bigger than two gay parents. I'm a foster kid. And the shane of two parents who devoted their time to a kid who ends up to be a sucidal depressed freak only upsets me. At my old foster home I was abused. I moved out when I was 6 but still I can feel those beer bottles against my body. Broken, sharp snd the number 1 killer in America so far. I stayed there for so long because they didn't want to let me go. My mother was the cause for my physical harm. She once was a bartender but there she was harassed but got blamed. There she took her anger on throwing beer bottles at her poor 6 year old kid. I usually stayed under the kitchen table where she would smoke and watch reality TV shows. I would rock back and forth, crying under the table. I needed her most after I found out my birth dad died. My mom never gave any support of any kind to me. So when I was 6, she went to rehab and I left with her brother which is one of my dads. I guess you could call that downhill.
