The ghost of my memories

Earliest memory

A lot of you don't know me and that's OK. I don't expect you to but one thing I do expect is for you to understand. This is my life and my story. You don't have to like it, but I do ask that you respect it. My childhood was not the best and was also the peak of my anxiety. My mother was a drug addict and I didn't know my dad until I was 14 but my stepdad gave me the best childhood he could. That was my dad. He was the man that raised me until he died, and I was on my own, and I liked it most of the time, but my stepdad death was just the start of my horrible life. I want to share my story to heal and to help others and I can sit here and make up sob story's so that you feel bad for me. That's not what this is. This was an is my actual life.

"Get up its after 6" I heard my stepdad say while turning on my light a shaking my bed with his foot.

"I'm up" I say in a smart tone

"Don't make me tell you again" he says walking out of my room

I get up as it's my first day of fifth grade, get dressed with the clothes my mom laid out for me and head towards the living room in our small 2 bedroom trailer, that I share with my mom, stepdad, and two little sisters. It was small but it was home.

I get my things ready as the bus comes every morning around 7am and if I was to miss the bus my mom would whoop me because we also had no car, so she couldn't take me if I missed the bus.

I get on the bus and go to a small school called Duff's elementary school, I loved elementary school. Especially my math & history teachers, ms. Gibson as my social studies teacher, and Ms.sexton as my math teacher. I finish my day at school with eating lunch alone and sitting alone as I had no friends, but that was okay because I loved to read. I go home and my mother isn't home, but my stepdad was, he was cooking dinner and my sisters was playing. I go to my room and turn on my Cinderella tv, I really loved that thing, it was my most prized possession. I just watch tv until....

"Willow do your homework, then tv, and do it now before dinner" my stepdad yells

"Fine" I yell back and slam my door

My stepdad had raised me since I was three years old, he was my father. He didn't always fill that hole just had inside of me that was lingering to know my biological father. I often wondered why he didn't want me, or what I did wrong. Still to this day I still wonder that and have no clue as to why.