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[ When my life ends pt.1 ]On an average day in California, a troubled 20 year old women was being driven to the abortion clinic by the women who had taken the place of her actual mother. “You don’t want this baby it’s going to cause you more problems” and “Look what happened with seleene” was playing over in her head but she didn’t want to get rid of the warmth that was in her belly. She turned to her sister and was going to say what was on her mind but before she spoke her sister said “I think you should keep the baby.’’ After 9 months of possible arguments and wider gaps between relationships I was born. At around 7 pm on April 13. I was often told I was a pretty baby with my curly Afro and caramel skin. Many people would try to play with me and would tell my mom she should model me.My mom was proud of my existence and for her I was the light she was waiting for. After 3 years she started to realize the expenses of having me and guarded us both away from the world. I was her light that she didn’t want anybody to be around, she often never let me go. When I turned around 5 we moved temporarily at her boyfriends house. At first I believe he was nice to me but when ever my mom left he would hit me or show me his parts maybe as a joke or thinking I wouldn’t remember. I remember. He would hit my mom and they would fight aggressively. One day my mom couldn’t tolerate him anymore and they had broken up. The place that we shared was now gone and I can’t imagine the stress and pain my mother was in. We lived on the street for a little bit. She worked hard selling candies and other goodies to strangers to keep up the little place we had managed to get, she would have me beg and sell as well because stranger would have pity on me. Even with all that effort it didn’t turnout to be enough. So she started to sell her body. For me this is still recurring memory always seeing the dirty men that would come in and out. Sometimes waking up at 1 to turn and see my mom working with one of her clients. One night my mother had fallen asleep and he didn’t seem to find interest in my mother but in me. That was the most traumatizing and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put in words what he did to me but it wouldn’t matter much because I can only recollect tiny fragments of horror and pain. I believe I was six when my sister was born she was my mothers new light. I was often very jealous of her because my mother had forgotten me. I was very young but I still remember how she would ignore me to hold my sister and how she would hit me more. I never thought it was a bad thing that my mom hit me. I thought I deserved it because I would often misbehave and be cruel to other children. At seven I saw the kids next door put on backpacks and I asked them where they were going. They were snarky kids who clearly hated me but told they were going to school. I asked my mom that day when I was going to school but she told me she didn’t want me to go to school because I would get bullied. About when I was eight is when cops came to my home. They had a long conversation with my mother and she was screaming and crying while they were asking my sister and I to grab our things….