Link to original post: [drupal=3971]I nearly died two years ago; here's a reflection on my life.[/drupal]
Well, I've had to go through some rough **** lately, so I decided to look back on my life. I'm pretty proud of myself for getting through some of it, but I've definitely done some things that I regret.
I was born to two decently well-off parents, and until I was about 6, we were never in any real financial trouble. My mom worked as a nurse in a hospital near our apartment, and my dad was a doctor at the same hospital. Things were good, like I said earlier, until three weeks after my sixth birthday.
On that day, February 25th, my dad was sued for malpractice and promptly fired. Guess what the idiot did? He came into work, mixed up two pregnant womens' charts, and gave the one who wanted an abortion pain meds and the one who had bad cramps Mifepristone, the stuff that is used for abortions. Luckily for both women and unluckily for him, someone checked up on him, saw the mistake, ripped up both prescriptions before they took anything, and reported my dad.
After that, my dad took up drinking as a hobby. Of course, we were in debt because of the lawsuit, but the ******* just drank away nearly every cent that my mom made. This continued for about a year, but I'm not going to go into the **** that he did to us. All I will say is that he did some very abusive things and that my most vivid memory of that period is of my dad hitting my mom, breaking a bottle of beer, and... doing things to her with the sharp, sharp pieces. I refuse to explain any farther.
Eventually, the people next door worked up the courage to call the cops, and my dad was arrested. The last time I saw him outside of court was when he tried to punch one of the two cops in the face. Trust me, I savored every moment of the tazing that he got.
Anyway, we were still in debt, and my mom quite simply wasn't making enough. We made it by for about 2 years, but when I was 8, I was forced to grow up fast. A gang had moved into my neighborhood, and I made the mistake of telling one of the "big kids" how much trouble we were in. He took a bit of pity on us and asked his boss if I could earn some cash by "helping out" with some things. I was quickly recruited, but I cannot talk about the things that I did on here because of the SWF global rules. Just draw a picture for yourself.
With that forced omission in mind, let's move ahead to when I was 15. We had paid off most of the debt, but my mom definitely did not approve of how I had gotten the money. I had quickly advanced in the "ranks," for lack of a better term, and my decent skills with math had gotten the boss's attention. On my twelfth birthday, he called me in to his "office" (an abandoned motorcycle repair place down the street from my apartment) and asked if I wanted to earn a bit more cash. I naturally said yes, and he pointed out in the corner a smallish man who was sitting at a stolen school desk. This guy was the bookkeeper, and he was my new teacher. He slowly taught me the maths of day-to-day "business," and after about a year, I was doing half of the books myself.
After a few years of doing this job and earning more money, some cops came to my door. They offered me a choice: give them info or go to jail for a long time. They never asked for anything specific, so I assumed that they honestly didn't know what I did, but I saw one of the "family" outside the window peek in and run off. Naturally, I pissed myself, and I told the cops enough bull to satisfy them for the night.
They left after saying that they would be back, and I slammed the door shut as soon as they came in. Scared out of my mind, I histerically started to laugh at the irony; I wouldn't have to worry about them coming back because I would be full of bullet holes before morning. My mom, after seeing me talking with the cops, was scared too, so she came up to me and quietly asked what was going on.
I, being the idiot that I was, explained everything to her. After she knew the whole story, her face became deathly pale, and she ran to the bathroom. After the sounds of retching stopped, she walked back to me. She was obviously nearly insane with fright, but she hugged me and whispered in my ear, "You're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-air."
I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said FRESH and it had dice in the mirror
If anything I can say this cab was rare
But I thought naw forget it, yo homes to Bel-Air!
I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabby "Yo homes smell ya later!"
I looked at my kingdom I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air
Well, I've had to go through some rough **** lately, so I decided to look back on my life. I'm pretty proud of myself for getting through some of it, but I've definitely done some things that I regret.
I was born to two decently well-off parents, and until I was about 6, we were never in any real financial trouble. My mom worked as a nurse in a hospital near our apartment, and my dad was a doctor at the same hospital. Things were good, like I said earlier, until three weeks after my sixth birthday.
On that day, February 25th, my dad was sued for malpractice and promptly fired. Guess what the idiot did? He came into work, mixed up two pregnant womens' charts, and gave the one who wanted an abortion pain meds and the one who had bad cramps Mifepristone, the stuff that is used for abortions. Luckily for both women and unluckily for him, someone checked up on him, saw the mistake, ripped up both prescriptions before they took anything, and reported my dad.
After that, my dad took up drinking as a hobby. Of course, we were in debt because of the lawsuit, but the ******* just drank away nearly every cent that my mom made. This continued for about a year, but I'm not going to go into the **** that he did to us. All I will say is that he did some very abusive things and that my most vivid memory of that period is of my dad hitting my mom, breaking a bottle of beer, and... doing things to her with the sharp, sharp pieces. I refuse to explain any farther.
Eventually, the people next door worked up the courage to call the cops, and my dad was arrested. The last time I saw him outside of court was when he tried to punch one of the two cops in the face. Trust me, I savored every moment of the tazing that he got.
Anyway, we were still in debt, and my mom quite simply wasn't making enough. We made it by for about 2 years, but when I was 8, I was forced to grow up fast. A gang had moved into my neighborhood, and I made the mistake of telling one of the "big kids" how much trouble we were in. He took a bit of pity on us and asked his boss if I could earn some cash by "helping out" with some things. I was quickly recruited, but I cannot talk about the things that I did on here because of the SWF global rules. Just draw a picture for yourself.
With that forced omission in mind, let's move ahead to when I was 15. We had paid off most of the debt, but my mom definitely did not approve of how I had gotten the money. I had quickly advanced in the "ranks," for lack of a better term, and my decent skills with math had gotten the boss's attention. On my twelfth birthday, he called me in to his "office" (an abandoned motorcycle repair place down the street from my apartment) and asked if I wanted to earn a bit more cash. I naturally said yes, and he pointed out in the corner a smallish man who was sitting at a stolen school desk. This guy was the bookkeeper, and he was my new teacher. He slowly taught me the maths of day-to-day "business," and after about a year, I was doing half of the books myself.
After a few years of doing this job and earning more money, some cops came to my door. They offered me a choice: give them info or go to jail for a long time. They never asked for anything specific, so I assumed that they honestly didn't know what I did, but I saw one of the "family" outside the window peek in and run off. Naturally, I pissed myself, and I told the cops enough bull to satisfy them for the night.
They left after saying that they would be back, and I slammed the door shut as soon as they came in. Scared out of my mind, I histerically started to laugh at the irony; I wouldn't have to worry about them coming back because I would be full of bullet holes before morning. My mom, after seeing me talking with the cops, was scared too, so she came up to me and quietly asked what was going on.
I, being the idiot that I was, explained everything to her. After she knew the whole story, her face became deathly pale, and she ran to the bathroom. After the sounds of retching stopped, she walked back to me. She was obviously nearly insane with fright, but she hugged me and whispered in my ear, "You're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-air."
I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said FRESH and it had dice in the mirror
If anything I can say this cab was rare
But I thought naw forget it, yo homes to Bel-Air!
I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabby "Yo homes smell ya later!"
I looked at my kingdom I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air
![Terywj [태리]](/data/avatars/l/71/71007.jpg?1555906021){kind=avatar}
Entertaining nonetheless.
