Personal Narrative: A Fairy Tale

Have you ever read a fairy tale? Well I 'm not much of a fairy but I 'll tell you my tale. That 's right, cheesy lines and phrases have always been my thing probably because of their unexpected turns and meanings which I can relate to. To be blunt for a change, something that I never am. My tale has to do with addiction, divorce, pain, love, and so much more, but let 's start off from the beginning. The ideal perfect couple was bonded together by the use of drugs such as methamphetamine, marijuana, and cocaine as well as many others. My mom had me at 17 and my dad was 32. I was born on January 5th, 2000. My mom like the name Alexis for me, but of course, she needed me to be special, and so I was named after a car, Lexus. I am the oldest of

Though, it seemed everything and everyone, around me, was making that choice for me.

The earliest of my memories go something like this: We lived in a 3 bedroom house, in North Hollywood, seems big, but honestly it never felt smaller. We were a nice ordinary family whenever we went out, but that wasn 't often. When we were home, we couldn 't be ourselves. Of course, growing this way isn’t healthy as you would imagine for one’s identity, and so I guess now at this age I have a hard time finding myself even while looking into a mirror. My mom was a stay at home mom. Most of the time but when she wasn 't she was a truck driver. She was the best but everyone has their weakness and for my mom, her weakness was at home. Her day would consist of drugs and sleep. My dad was a construction worker and the hardest working man I know. He worked a lot when I was younger. When he would come home we would be free from the place we were always trapped in. You see, my mom would lock us in our room and would only open the door when my dad got home. Sometimes there was the occasional exception of breakfast, a rare luxury found as often as the jackpot. It wasn 't often but when she did boy was it good. She must really

I just wasn 't naturally happy anymore, my own jokes wouldn 't even make me laugh. I’m just kidding honestly I always was so hilarious even if i was the only one who thought so. But I most certainly didn 't want to look like more of a weirdo, considering the fact I’d laugh out of nowhere because I’d make jokes up in my head, so sitting alone at lunch and recess was definitely not an answer so I faked it and I was the class clown, finally being able to say my jokes aloud, talking too much, talking to everyone. Considering all this I still felt as everything was collapsing on top of me, I wanted to run away but everything was way to heavy for a seven almost eight year old to carry. Often times I was scared to be home, but I couldn 't leave my siblings there all alone. Meanwhile most of this was happening in my head. Things were also happening in the real world. One day in July, it was late but not too late, my parents were arguing as usual but this time it was more aggressive. I felt like it was louder than any of the times I’ve heard them argue, it really felt like they had microphones and were using it to yell into my ears. So I went outside into the hallway to see what the ruckus was about, but as usual being like if i walked into their room I would break everything, there was one of those wooden gates like for babies,