Things happen for a reason and I think I found mine. Never have I thought I’d get this far, to think of me as a girl who would shower once or twice a week and be on the streets to a girl who is now looking forward to a college education and a future. I've been learning to let go of the past and move on with life. Things have changed since I've been back with my sister. We decided to set our differences aside and do what’s best. To this day I'm still in placement, but I’m back with my sister. My sister called CPS on me, and I was sent to a foster home in Colton, California. Towards the end of sophomore year/beginning of junior year, I kept running away. She also died two weeks before Christmas. When I found her lifeless body I also found pictures of my dad scattered around her as if this was all planned out. Turns out my mom was pronounced dead at the scene. She wouldn’t respond to me so I called 911 and they came quickly. My first reaction wasn't to panic because I thought this was another one of her hangovers. One night I came home from my brother’s house to find my mom laying face down on the floor. Withdraws were the worst, but I managed to keep my mom safe and help her find herself, at least thats what I thought. My mother’s boyfriend ended up going to jail which meant no more drugs for her. Things took a sharp turn my freshman year of high school. I believed that there was a reason for all this chaos. As things at home got worse, I never seemed to lose hope in my self or my mom. You can say I was that one kid at school who would always get in trouble to try and seek attention from my mother. It got to a point where I stopped coming home and spent my days out in the streets with friends. Everyday after school I would find him and my mom passed out in the middle of the hallway with burnt spoons and ash trays everywhere. He wasn't much into drugs but, loved to drink. Doing so, my dad contracted Hepatitis C, went into cardiopulmonary arrest and was pronounced dead two weeks before christmas.Ī month prior to his death, my mom encountered a boyfriend. Knowing what my parents would do, they would tell me to keep my mouth shut. I started to figure out why my mom would take so long in the restroom or why my dad would leave colorful inflated water balloons floating around in the toilet. Once I started middle school things seemed to change. Eventually she stopped visiting which meant the questions stopped and life seemed to move on. Some lady would frequently arrive to the house asking me questions about things my parents would do and I would continually lie about everything. Iĭisliked them with a passion because my parents would always tell me that CPS were the bad guys trying to take little children like me away from their parents. On the other hand, my dad was just addicted to heroin but also struggled to maintain his sobriety.Īt the age of nine I learned who the Children Protective Services were. My mother was a heroin and methamphetamine addict who struggled with her addiction on and off for several years. Things weren't always so perfect though, both of my parents were illegal citizens but managed to make a living out of what they made.
Growing up wasn't so tough, I lived with both my parents in a small apartment located in the heart of East LA. I was raised in a christian home, believing that the answer to everything was God. They say things happen for a reason, or at least that’s what I’ve been taught.
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