As a young boy i had a good life most of the time, plenty of food on the table, a loving family, you know what every good kid desearves. I dont really have a name, my parents didnt exactly give me one. They told me i could be whoever i wanted to be. So basically i picked my own name But in records and stuff im just put in as Richard Carlson, Richard being the name they were going to choose for me until their idea of me picking my own name. Iwish i had appreciated it more. I regret everytime I complained about something not going my way. My world went downhill ever since April. She left me, we were only 13, and we were only together 7 months, but I had really believed we'd be together forever. I kept developing stronger feelings for her and she claimed she did too. But she left. After that I guess i developed depression, I never wanted to do much, never was genuinely happy. At 18 i hit the lowest point in my life. Right after my grades came in at the end of the year, i had barely scraped by in math and social studies. I did fairly well at science and P.E. though. i couldnt find a college to get into not one that i really wanted to get in anyways. I wanted a job that would make me feel good one that would make me feel important. But of course no luck with my grades. On the drive back from the last day of school i crashed my dad's car. Now this car wasnt one of those ratmobiles or whatever you'd call them this was MY DAD'S. He only let me drive it for the last day of school and for graduation. My parents told me it was time to move out. So with money i had saved over the years i rented an apartment very small dingy place where the water smelled like sewage, but i lived. The only jobs i could get were jobs at fast food places i went on like this for a year. After this year i couldnt get enough money i had massive debt. i didnt know where to look my parents had basically become hermits and they said i should get a better job and they wouldnt let me move in. Two weeks after i asked if i could stay with them. My dad died. My mother and i finally bonded again and we had more contact but we were both mortified. She also helped with my debt problem. She became as depressed as i was crying every night, but unlike me, she saw therapists. I moved in with her even tho she was mostly gone either at her job, which was being a nurse, or she was at the therapist. The only time we visited my dads grave was on his birthday and my mom would go back to the way she was when he first died. this went on for five entire years. To the day. On the day he died. On that day five years later i found a note on my door when i woke up it was.... my mothers suicide note. I didnt know where she had i gone i called the police and they had said they were just about to call me. They had found her dead. laying right next to my father. With a bullet in her head. They took the house from me since i had no money to pay with. I became a beggar. We lived in atlanta. Not a good place for beggars but i stayed there with the memories of my parents. I walked by my old house everyday, and my parents graves i would always keep fresh flowers at their graves. This where my story starts.
