Chapter 2

My name is Erick I am eighteen years old and I have cancer.

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Just the thought of it scares me.

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Mom also died of cancer just three years ago.

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Life without mom was never the same. Mom was the greatest. I remember how she would wake up laughing and whistle ling some random 80’s song. The smell of eggs and bacon in the morning smothered our living room walls. The joy and the laughter that filled our home is something I will always remember. I miss mom so much specially now, especially now that I am all alone. But mom always said “Life is worth living and the minute you give up life loses its purpose”. Yeah she was deep like that. She always saw the positive in the negative. My dad in the other hand well lets just say he was not mom but he was some what close. Yet after mom passed away he turned into a complete stranger and even as I walked into the house I could feel the tension between us. I simply hated living like that and I wanted it to change. Yet it never did.

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After mom’s death dad began gambling. I was only fifteen at the time. It started with scratch tickets and eventually it ended up at the casinos. Every Saturday he would be there like a fin on crack looking for a fix. Gambling became his addiction. But I couldn’t say anything. How could I? We NEVER spoke! Little by little it began to affect us. He fell back on his mortgage payments and eventually we lost our house. He lost his car and his job along with everything else. I couldn’t believe the only place I could still feel my mom was quickly being snatched before my eyes. I hated him for what he had become.

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After applying for housing and a several months of being homeless and living in a shelter the government was able to set us up in a 2 bedroom apartment. Trust me by then I couldn’t wait until I was an adult to get the hell out of there. But of course that was merely a dream. Soon after we were settled in dad felt he had to have a conversation with me. The conversations where the person tells you he or she is going to change but then it never happens. Yeah that conversation, and because I was not that big on let downs I never took it seriously and just after a few months I was proven right. This time he began drinking too. This made him a very angry and abusive father. He was ALWAYS in a bad mood. I always tried to avoid him but that infuriated him even more I guess he hated being alone and having no one to argue with. I remember the nights he had way too much to drink. He would bang my door wide open and bang me in the head or anywhere else he could reach until I could not respond. Every night I would pray to God that he could take me away. Yet three years passed by and the torture continued. The emergency room became my second home with all those late night stays. Every night was a different story and I think by this time the Doctors had caught up to all my lies. They began paying close attention to all my injuries jotted them down and placed a concern frown on their face.

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One night dad came into the apartment rotting in alcohol and yelling that he had lost everything. He came into my room grabbed me from my bed and dragged me to the living room. He took his belt and began hitting me. You could see the anger in his eyes as if I had done all of this to him. As he slashed the belt against my head the buckle smashed my head and cracked it open. After much blood Dad panicked and called 911. The ambulance came rushing in and took me to the ER. That was the last time I saw him. He was later convicted of “Attempt Murder”

TO BE CONTINUED….

Chapter 1

"Life can be dull once you have given up"

My life should be written in a book. Better yet a whole section in a book store should be dedicated to me. See my life is like no other. I was raised by my mother, my dad the coward that he was left my mom when she was only seven months pregnant. I guess the guy just couldn't wait until I showed up, although I doubt that would have made a difference since my mom said the day I was born there was rain instead of sunshine and animals across the world cried in excruciating pain. She used to say that it rained so badly because I had caused her so much pain on the day of my birth as if I had any control over that. But that was mom cruel at its best. Well as you can imagine it didnt get any better than that. Mom began drinking soon after. One day when I came home from school I saw her laying across the floor and I thought she had passed out again like all those other nights, but I found out she was actually dead. For so many years she longed for my dad, and everyday she would wake up hoping someone would rescue her from her pitiful life but alas no one ever did. Not even I her only daughter could bring her back from that very dark place she has so desperately taken shelter in. Days later I found myself at her funeral and as much as I wanted to cry I couldn't shed one single tear. Not that I hated her but I guess I was relieved I no longer had to see her in so much pain.

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After mom passed away I was alone. Not that I ever had anyone but I mean I was actually all ALONE. I realized how big the apartment was. Family was no where no be found. Of course I was not surprised seeing as no one bother to show up to my mothers funeral. I'm telling you some people can really hold grudges.

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A few days after my mom's funeral a lady came knocking on my door. I opened the door and ever so slightly she flashed me her ID. The ID read "Maria Cardoza Social Services". I had no idea what she wanted with me but I was willing to find out. I was always curious like that. After much blah blah I realized she was taking me away. Since no one had claimed me "theirs" and I was too young to live unsupervised she had to take me in and live somewhere else somewhere she called "safe". I smirked and thought to myself "Where in the world was she the last couple of years". As I walked away from the apartment I had resided for my entire life I realized there wasn't much memories to bring with me and just like that I turned my head and walked away.

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I moved from foster home to foster home. Every time it was a different story. You are too quiet. You just don't belong. The last one I have to admit was pretty funny. This family had one girl and wanted to adopt another]girl so they can keep each other company, what they didn't realize was that the little girl wanted did not want any. After just a few months she convinced them to get rid of me and in a matter of seconds I was back where I had started. At the beginning, it tore me inside to think that my mother was probably right and that no one would ever love me. But as time went by I grew this hard core shell where nothing could penetrate me. That was what life had made me...hard. This place wasn't so bad though, don't get me wrong. It actually had a homey feeling. We had sort of a scheduled routine just to keep us in check. Every now and then I played a prank on the workers just to keep my head sane. During my 18 years there I did make a few friends here and there but nothing too serious. Remember I was a hard solid rock and I was not trying to change.

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March 24 and I was finally 18 years old. My birthday was finally worth celebrating cause I was finally and ADULT! With a small Happy B-Day envelope and a few goodbyes I was out the door. Foster Care was nice enough to set me up with an apartment and some groceries just enough to get me started. My future looked bright and I was eager to start my life. Unfortunately my past always haunted me and even at night I could see my mom walking about in my living room. Constaly I would wake up drenched in sweat. The pain and anguish I had gone through all this years had kept a constant presence in my life and the fear a of being alone haunted me day in and day out. One day after much planning I figured a way to make all my troubles go away. I decided the only way to do it was the way mom did it. Yes quick and easy. Even though I dont know how long mom actually layed there but non the less I had a plan to carry out. After a very long shower I put on my favorite pjs and walked straight to the kitchen. I walked to the cabinet which stood right above my old microwave and grabbed the pills. Eight was my favorite number and as I placed the pills on my hand and the cup of water in the other. A sudden though came to my head...."Failure" . One by one they went down until my eyes shut down and my body collapsed and I no longer had the will to get up.....

TO BE CONTINUED....

Alone

What are dreams if not unreal?
What is life with out some pain?
Can I really become someone?
Can I really experience love?
What if I am supposed to rot in my own filth?
What if I am supposed to die alone?
I guess I will never know
For no one can answer any of my questions
Cause I live all alone

Intro.

Hello Everyone,

Welcome.

My name is...Anonymous. I live in a world where humans collide. For now that's all you need to know.

This Blog will be filled with stories some which will be very close to me while other will come from simple inspiration. I plan on using this space only for stories and not my day to day activities.

I do hope you enjoy them and in any case I would love your feedback.

Thank you and welcome to

"Life through the Shattered Glass"