Unknown

I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases each time it was a different story. Depending on who it was whether it was my grandparents, my parents my sisters or my aunts and uncles it’s always different, always. I was too young to remember, I remember little pieces but nothing more. Sometimes I think that nobody really knew what went on not even my parents and they were the main characters in the story. But somehow my four year old self wound up out of the hands of my parents and into the hands of about four different foster parents.  But there’s a happy. That sentence probably made no sense but it will later, just have to wait. Of course from the parents point of view it wasn’t as bad as everyone made it out to be, and from my grandparents point of view it was the alcohols fault and from my sisters point of view it was all my mom’s fault and from my Aunts point of view it doesn’t really matter what happened because in the end I ended up having a great life. I always used to search for the truth, the people who know won’t tell and the people who don’t know think they do. Confusion and mess pretty much sums up the whole situation. But here’s how it looked threw my eyes, my parents, weren’t capable of putting me before other things in their life and I got taken away. My dad. That’s a whole other story, that sometimes I still get lost in, everyone has those people in their life that they put up on a higher pedestal than they should be on, for me my dad was that person, and he was that person for my sisters as well, wanting and needing him to be someone he wasn’t, and that’s how they formed there warped opinion it wasn’t his fault.  Luckily my grandparents rescued me. And that’s exactly how it happened. I lived with them from four till I was thirteen and both of them had passed. When I was with them I got to do things I probably never would have gotten to do, and that’s where my aunts point of view comes in, I was spoiled, got everything I wanted and got to do things they never did, jealousy is and was a key role in helping them form there opinion to. That’s the happy, not the ending just the happy, the ending isn’t here yet, now I live with my mom, the past still slithers its way back in I try to let it in to find out answers but my mom pushes it back down the hole it came out of. It’s not really dinner conversation. Are there any questions?