Author's Note: So, this will be rated PG for hinting at heavy topics, though they won't be detailed or mentioned more than necessary. This isn't very well written, but more of something I needed to write.
I was born on Valentine's day, into a family that seemed to know so little about love. I was the child you saw on the news, the one who didn't have nice parents. I was the boy with bruises on his face. The boy who no one loved, except my brother. I was the child who was raised by his father, in a household where Daddy drank to much, and the only thing that he loved more than the Bible was the women he brought into his house.568Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWKsv0aOgQl
I was the boy who lived that way for seventeen years. I was the boy who lived through things no child should live through. I was the child whose innocence was stolen, who was unwanted, unloved, and misunderstood.
But, then things got better when I no longer lived with Dad. I found people who truly cared though it took a long time to understand that. I found a name for the odd ways my mind works:Autism. I also found that hiding scars was hard, not hurting myself was harder.
I was the boy who dropped out of high school when bullying became too bad and I no teacher could teach me. Even my special ed classes offered little. I was the boy who was broken, afraid and scared of everything. I would jump at loud noises, and flinch when touched.
Love changed me, as I began to open up. I'm still the boy who hurts himself, the boy who looks in the mirror and hates what he sees. But, I'm also the boy who still doesn't know who he is, because I haven't found myself yet. Who I am now isn't who I will always be, it's just a starting place. But, its improvement from the boy who would only sign, for I'm willing to speak now. I became who I am through hatred and hell, them love and compassion. It was almost too late, but i was given a chance, and that made me who I am today.
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