Growing up i always struggled with coming to terms with how i was raised and my environment. I was raised in Brentwood, New York, in a community commonly known for gang violence and troubled teens. It was a very scary place at a young age i remember all the extra lockdown drills we had, all the kids crying because they were scared of the gunshot they just heard whether it be a few blocks down or just outside our school window. I remember kids coming to school crying because of the gang war that happened on their street the night before. I remember my principle having to walk me to the school gate because the creepy old man wouldn't leave 7 year old me alone and how i was afraid of just belonging to a community like that.
I remember being in
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We moved to Greenspoint, Texas, it had almost the same gang violence rate as brentwood the only exception is i didn't have have my family protecting me and having a father who had 2 jobs and was never home was hard to happen to me at 13. When i went to Texas a series of unfortunate events came to be, first my close friend died of cancer a week after my birthday and i had spoken to him the day of my birthday which he told me he was doing better and i realized he had his reasons to tell me that he was going to be okay. the second unfortunate event was i was sexually assaulted in a place i thought i was safe, i thought because we moved, we would be in a new safe haven but boy was i wrong. I was sexually assaulted by a fellow student at my old school and third unfortunate event my father couldn't make the money to get a house for the family so he made a deal with my birth mother, if he sends me to live with her, she’ll give him the down payment to rent a house which is around 2,000 dollars. it was a decision done without my input. My mother lived in guatemala with my other 6 siblings and grandmother. She was a wealthy businesswoman. When my birth father was still alive, they were a drug dealer duo, very powerful in the country of guatemala.