It is life’s experiences and lessons that mold a person into who they become. Since I was born, my whole life has been a struggle. My mother gave birth to me at the age of sixteen; she was still a child herself. Unable to provide the proper care for me, I was left in the hands of my godmother for several years. During those years, my mother proceeded to give birth to my two sisters, Dominique and Janexia. All of us are exactly one year apart and all of us were left in the hands of someone other then our mother. When I reached the age of six, my mother was able to get her stuff together and take us into her apartment with her new boyfriend, Carlos.
For the next six years, domestic violence is all I witnessed. Many nights my sisters and I witnessed the smacking, punching and kicking through a crack in the door. It all ended one night when I heard them arguing I knew a fight was going to break out so I tried to block it out, but then, when I heard all the noise stop, I knew there was something wrong. I gathered up all my strength and stepped into the warzone to witness my stepfather on top of my mother with his hands around her necking choking the life out of her. I started to yell and cry and Carlos looked up at me and stopped. He ran to me and hugged me and cried and cried and cried. He promised me that he would never touch my mother again. My mother and stepfather never laid another finger on each other. They got married and had my little brother Michael.
Soon, the lonely nights began because Carlos worked second shift; during the day he slept and at night he worked. Mom was going to school during the night to become a hairdresser. I was forced to be mom and dad to my younger siblings at the age of 14. I would cook them supper, help them with their homework, send them to bathe and put them to bed. Then, I did my schoolwork so I would not fall behind. I only had two people that I could count on during this time in my life, the lord and myself....