Where to Start

Where to start at? Theres so much to say about myself and my life i dont even know where to begin... I guess well start from the beginning......

The beginning of me was in 1991 when my mom n dad met in the army. they hooked up, blah blah blah, my mom leaves the army and goes home while dad went off to war. what they had was a fling. 9 months later, boom im born. my mom told me my dad didnt know about me till i was 4 yrs old because she didnt know how to contact him  since he went off to war and she hadnt seen him since she left the army. so, for the first 4 yrs of my life, my father didnt know that i existed. i was born at a naval air base, and that ladies and gentlemen is how I came to be.

My clearest and most vivid memory I have in my mind is the day I got taken away from my mom for the FIRST time. I was 6 years old. My mom and my aunts left to go to a store to buy some ketchup for me for the chicken nuggets my mom was going to make for me. I couldnt go with them they said so i stayed at my house with my 2 yr old cousin and his baby brother. Two of my uncles and some of their friends were also at my house with me. SO my uncles n their friends were behind me in the "dining room" and i was watching timon and pumba with my little cousins. While we were watching tv, my uncles and their friends had some white powder in foil on the table in front of them. I now know, that white powder that i thought was baby powder when i saw it at 6 yrs old, was not baby powder, but drugs.

I heard yelling at our door and knocking, i heard people yelling to open the door or theyll break it down, and i told me uncle andrew but he said i was just hearing things.
*F.Y.I- if a 6 yr old kid tells u they hear people yelling at the door saying theyll break it down, then u heed their warning and check what the hell is going on.

SO, turns out its the cops, or swat, or the drug enforcement officer guys, but there was abuttload of men in black uniforms with 3 letters on the backs of their jackets and wearing black helmet looking things and they busted in my house shooting their guns everywhere. my cat got shot in her ear. my uncle gala got shot 6 times in his stomach and one of my uncles friends was shot and killed in my kitchen. i can remeber looking around through all this and looking down and seeing my uncles dead friend on the kitchen floor. and this whole time the shooting is going on, im standing up. an officer was yelling to me to "get down! get down!" and i yelled back "NO!!" and my 2 yr old cousin was yelling at the officer cussing him out(yes cussing him out at 2 yrs old). and no, i didnt move or get down. luckily, i wasnt shot. when all the shooting was done and finished, i looked over behind the couch and saw my uncle andrew in handcuffs laying on the floor with cuts on him and our table shattered in pieces with blood on some pieces(glass table)...

CPS took me and my little cousins away. we went with them to this place and they took us to a very dark room where our moms were at. my mom was crying and told me i was going to live somewhere else for a while..and i couldnt understand what the hell she was talking about.. i was taken to a foster home. my two little cousins got sent to a foster home together and  i was sent to a different one to be alone. i hated that first foster home, they were meen and rude and their kids hated me.. so, now you guys know my first and most vivid memory in my mind, what a coincidence its not a very good memory.. to be honest, the majority of my memories arent good..