My true story...

Chapter 1.

My grandma always say's that someone always has it worse than we do. I believe her, But what do you think? My name is Jessica. I am 13, and this is the story of my messed up life.

   My dad died on my second birthday. Happy birthday to me. (Note the sarcasm.) Some how my whole family know's thing's wouldn't have ended up the way they had if he haven't of died. Shortly after that my mother started drugs. She was with her new boyfriend named Jamie. She always was sleeping. Though we did have good memories, like when we went camping all the time. My big brother Christian was the one to take care of me most of the time. We were treated like dirt. No adult super vision. Which is worse than you think.

---------------------------------------------------------Flashback-----------------------------------------------------------------

   Our mom, and Jamie were up stairs asleep. My brother, and I were jumping on the dark brown couch. In front of it was a t-v, and in between a brown coffee table. He got off the couch, and Jumped back on it. Just then I jumped in the air. Fear striking threw me. I almost hit my head on the ceiling. Instead I came down, and hit my head on the coffee table. Pain striking me in the left side of my head. My blood was on the floor, and on the table. I yelled in pain. I was sobbing, and I felt like a mess.

"Jessica, are you okay?" My brother asked as he rushed to my side. I yelled again knowing that if I yelled loud enough Mom would come down, and help. She did we went to the hospital, and I got stitches.

--------------------------------------------------------End of flashback----------------------------------------------------------

   I still have the scare on my forehead, But the worst part of that memory was not the pain, but the fact that my mom wasn't the one to take me to the hospital. Jamie did. 

  That's not all. We were starved until we were bone skinny. Sometimes we went over to our nabores to eat, and play with the little girl that lived there. We were thought to steal and lie, by our mother. We were not aloud to go to school most of the time. That is why I failed kindergarten. We were beat about 20 times with a belt when ever we did something wrong. People were sent from the government to check up on us. We could see them looking through the window. When the police came over mom, and Jamie would flush the drugs down the toilet. One time when they were arguing we called the police, and they both got arrested.