when i was a toddler we didnt have much money at all, my family lived in tennesse my father, an alcholic would bring over a handfull of his buddys from work on friday and they would not leave until monday for work they would drink...sleep...drink...sleep my mother would cook food for them,the little that we had, an clean up after them.
she had quit her job as a helocopter repairer in the military, so she could stay home and take care of me, my dad worked as a low rank mechanic leaving at 5am an coming home by supper time. my father being a violent, hurtfull drunk would take my mother for granted call her names, neglect me an what ever else, she no longer could take it.
one night she picked me up off of the mangled mess of a floor and took off out the door twards the car my dad stumbled out of the house with a shot gun pointed at me. he told her to get in the house...what else could my mother do? she came back in. the next day my father sobered up and relized what he had done, he did not touch alcohol for 13 years after that. when i was the age of 4 we were restationed to germany. i stayed home with my mom for about a year then i went to school for the first time kindergarden at gelenhousen elementary school. i was so nervious i cried like im sure many others had. the first thing i did when i entered the colorfull crouded room, was i walked right up the the teachers desk, mrs davis...i wont ever forget her, and not for good reasons. anyways she sighed and looked upward at me. "What?" she said "hi my names Amanda." i know that go sit down im busy she said firmly. i know that seems stupid but i was such a shy little girl so i took things to hard. ill talk about my home life now from the age of 5-6 i tried sooo soooo hard to make friends it was painful how hard i tried to fit in, i would walk up to the group of kids on the swing set and theyd all go some where else id carve my name into a tree, the next day it was scratched out.
the kids called me up to play id egerly run up to them and climb the tree with them, as soon as i got close to the group they shoved me out, iv been stipped naked in a playground beaten bloodied. i saved up for a cashregister toy for a while i got it an played with it for hours. one day i made the mistake of leaving it ouside in the aparment playground while i ate dinner, i came running back to it, and some one had deficated on it. we moved from appartement to appartement 3 times just to get away from the different bullys. it didnt help.
my mother was diagnosed with colan cancer when i was 11 we got sent to new york
for treatement. (we flew from germany - ny 2 days after 911)
heres where the fun begins. my father got deployed to afganistan because of the war on terror and it was just me and my mother she was in an out of surgerys constantly radiation an cemotherapy. she was sickly an miserable. yet she some how found a way to add on to problems, next door there was a devorced man Brian, who was a helocopter piolet he had 7 children. my mom and him had an affair my dad found out and there was all hell broke loose, talk of devorce was constant questions of who would i rather live with? would u ever call brain daddy? fuck no never would i ever. down the road it was brian who called it off after my mom got healed up some we moved to the next town over. still i was bullied horable because i was antisocial an depressed, i had nicknames that haunt me, iv been beaten on the pavement on the side walk right out side my house iv been ganged up on, knockedout in the snow, i walked a half mile each day to an from school...an that was a good time for the bullies to torment me. one time i did win a fight, after having a dieing mother not talk to me and a father who was never there for so long i snapped.
i was wearing my dads army jacked that i had put patches an safty pins i lent it to some one that i tried to make a friendship with, her and another girl quickly aleinated me and called me names i was furious an asked for my coat back she took it of threw it on the ground and began stomping on it, i lost it i didnt care if she was going to beat me up for the 100th time i attact her i tackled her grabed handfulls of hair an ripped with all my might, i grabed her head an smashed it against the pavement, the other girl ranaway, after i saw blood on the sidewalk i smashed her head just one more time and grabbed my coat an ran home. my dad came home from the war we moved again this time a met a girl jessica i was hesitant but she turned out to be one of my best friends iv ever had if not the best. she instantly took me in with her friends. she showed me "hottopic" and gave birth to my strange goth look that everyone knows me as. my first day of 7th grade to my last of my senior year i wore strange cloths and multi colored hair i thank jessica for introducing me to it. the bulling did not disapear but it deffinatly did go down now just strange looks and some comments peole stare at the scars that cover my arm from self injury but iv made some other outcast friends that are the closest thing to family. i am happy.
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