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  Everytime i sit down to begin writing my story, i always blank as to where to start. So many different times would be suitable to start.. I guess i'll start at the easier part to explain.

    I was born in Macon Coliseum Hospital. in Macon Georgia. My parents wanted to have a girl, but they didn’t exactly get what they wished for.. Who am i, you ask? Well, that will all come in due time. Let’s continue with the story. So, when i was born i was healthy, but my mom drank while she was pregnant, so that effectsme later on in the story. So a week after being born i was brought home. My parents didn’t exactly have the most stable relationship... They both drank, but i was content with my life. I went to school like a normal child, but i didn’t go many places.

    In 1st grade i met my two best friends. Allen Holloway, and Jackson Huebert. Allen was one of the rich kids so i didn’t always get along with him, but we still hung out a lot. Jackson was a really close friend to Allen, he had known him since kindergarten. The 3 of us stayed good friends till 4th grade. Jackson's dad lost his job, and had to move. Neither Allen nor myself knew where he had moved too. Allen started to distance himself from me. His parents were the kind that let you do whatever you want and don’t really care. He eventually committed suicide. I was pretty strucken, he just was gone. like a flash of lightning. that explains pretty much all you need to know right now. The rest will come later.

  Now time to get to the beginning of my story. In 6th grade i ran away. I didn’t know where i would go, but i knew i would go somewhere. I ended up in Atlanta Georgia. My cousin, Trenton, lived there.

                                                                             [-=-=-]      

 I walked up the paved driveway, scared to be turned away like all the other places i’ve tried. He’s related to you, it has to be different this time… I walked up to the door, my backpack on one shoulder. The winter air is freezing on my bare arms. “It’s already this cold?” I said aloud to myself. I sigh and look at the door. I reach my hand up to push the doorbell, but stop. “It’s going to be different this time..” I push the doorbell and hear the usual ‘Ding Dong’. I wait a moment and hear nothing. No movement. I look through the window on the side of the door. No one seems to be moving..

   “Hello?” I call out.

   “Um, ya, one second i’m on the shitter.” A masculine voice called out.

The house was one story, made of brick. It looked decent but clearly lived in. The paint was old and chipped, the porch wood creaked very loud under foot. The sound of a toilet flushing came from inside the house. A man with a brown short beard, and equally short hair, walked to the door. He wore a black trench coat-like jacket. His shirt was red with a Van Halen symbol on it and a guitar behind it. His baggy jeans sagged over his Jay shoes.

  “What the hell kid, you’re gonna freeze to death?” He said in a tone that showed both disinterest, yet some how worry. “Get your ass in here and tell me what you want.” The stranger rolled his eyes. I walked in cautiously. His house was littered with trash, but it felt some how welcoming. “Okay?” He asked.

  “Oh! Sorry, i was just interesting in your house.” I said like a scared child.

 “That’s what you bothered me for?” He asked annoyed.

  “Oh, um no. You see i’m your younger cousin, i’m twelve by the way, and i was wondering if i could possibly crash at your place for a little while?” The words came out slow, and terrified. I’ve been rejected by strangers many times, but this was suppose to be different. He’s related, it should be, right?