You know, it's funny how much one person can withstand. Not to say I've been through the worst. But before anyone judges that, I would like to tell my story. I'm only 16 years old, so how long could this story be? I'm not an amazing author. I wouldn't even call myself an author, to be completely honest. But, nevertheless, I want anyone who is struggling in their life, anyone who feels completely alone, anyone who questions if life is worth living (or even knows it's not) to just listen to my story.
I was born in Coral Springs, Florida at 9:15 p.m. My umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck. Twice. When they realized this, they were in the middle of the birthing process. Mid-push, the doctor screamed at my mother to stop pushing, but she couldn't. The last words she heard before I was born were "YOU'RE KILLING YOUR BABY!" I didn't cry when I was born to let her know I was alive. They took me to the other side of the room and made sure I was breathing. Luckily I was, and with a SMACK! on my butt, I cried my first tear, screamed my first scream, and the whole room relaxed. The prayers stopped, and turned into praise. Diamond Alexis-Marshall Lovette had been born. Was she ready? Was the world?
I was the very first girl of my generation within my family. So, of course, I was basically worshipped. Everyone was obsessed with little baby Diamond. I have 3 aunts and 3 uncles. The eldest is my Aunt Chekesha, whom I grew up calling Aunty Kesha ( Kaysha). She is the black sheep of the family. She always goes her own way, and lives by her own morals. You'll hear more about her later.
Next is my mother, Lisa, whom I grew up calling Mom (I know, shocker, right?).
Next is my Uncle Victor, and thats just what I called him. There's not much to say about him. He's just family.
Next is my Aunt Danielle, whom I grew up calling Te-Te. You'll also hear more about her, later.
Next is my Uncle Marvin, whom I grew up calling Uncle Nicky (Everyone in the family calls him Nicky, I still don't know the story behind that).
Last are my Aunt and Uncle (twins), Melissa and Michael, I grew up calling them Te-Ta and Uncle Michael.
I call my grandmother Nana, and called my grandfather Ta-Ta. A lot, I know.
I don't remember my father, he left when I was 9 months old. Walked out. I don't know the story behind that either, but I don't really think it matters. He's supposed to pay child support but my mom told me we haven't received enough to care for a guinea pig, let alone a child.
It's weird because for some reason, I've never seen his face. Not a picture, not a profile, nothing. I, once, saw a picture of him visiting my mom in the hospital after having me, but the picture was too dark, I couldn't see his face. Its really weird not knowing half of where you came from. Never being able to see half of what I am. It used to hurt more back then. Like when we make father's day cards in preschool or kindergarten, mine would be blank while everyone around giggled, colored, and drew. Then would be the "Why me" moments. I looked for him. I always asked people if they were my dad. The teachers felt bad, my family felt bad, everyone felt bad. I just wanted to stay away from these awkwardly embarrassing moments as much as possible.
When I was 6, I went to live with my Aunty Chekesha. I don't know the reason why, but I didn't care, I was so excited. She had 4 kids: Ally, whom was 5, and a 4 year old pair of Twins, Wilson and Marina. The eldest was Tye Don, we all called him Dana. He was 16. He was only nice to one of us, kids, at a time. But only when he wanted something. He always did the grossest things to us. One time, I was sleeping, and I woke up to him spitting in my ear. Now, anyone who knows me knows I fear 3 things I fear in life: Roaches, Naked people, and Saliva. I awoke and ran to my Aunt. He denied it, but she believed me.
