I was about two weeks late. My Father says my mother changed when I was born but I say she will never change. I was a fussy baby. When I was one and a half I stopped using a dummy. I hated them after that. When I started school I hated it and everything was new. We moved to L.A and I felt so sad about moving that I ran away. I was found by the police and they put me in an orphanage. Two days later I was adopted by a nice couple who loved me as though they were my real family. I didn't feel the same again. When I was 5 The couple had a baby. I had a baby brother. He was the most adorable thing ever. But I didn't like him at first. I was horrible to him and now he teases me. I guess I deserve it.
