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(January 20 - February 18)
You'll be angry if those you live with aren't pulling their weight. You can come into money; however, perhaps not under the best circumstances. You can make changes to your living quarters, but not everyone will be pleased with your efforts.
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Birthday: Feb 6 1999
Location: in your heart c;
Last Seen: Fri, 25 Apr 2014
Hiya I'm just a girl trying to figure out this world. So don't tale my kindness as a sign of weakness. Kay?
I wasn't born alive nor in a hospital. I was born on the Leesburg bypass in Virginia. I was dead for four minutes until I randomly started breathing. «this is where my belief in majick came from. Also, my dad molested me and my sister when we were really young. My mom divorced him and ended up putting me,my sister and brother, all into Foster care for two years. After that, my mother married my stepfather and got us back. At first, things were great. But there were times when she wouldn't be home when she was supposed to be. And other times, shed come home and end up beating me. From being beaten, I took my pain and rage out on my sister. She hated me. My whole family did. After being bullied in my school and my mom not paying rent, we left our home and moved. At the new placement, I had to stop many fist fights between my mom and stepfather. At the same time, I was in 4th grade, I was being bullied traumatically to the point I missed at least one day every week. My mom didn't care. Never has. In sixth grade, we moved again. I thought "Yay! A new school ; a new start!" But the bullying grew worse. My mom started drinking. She slept all the time. The teachers let the students bully me. They even laughed along sometimes. In 7th grade, my mom was now labeled an alcoholic in my home. By this time, my sister was rarely home. My brother had moved in with his friend. So I was alone. Always alone with my mother. There were many times where she beat me. One time, she hit me across the face and made my mouth bleed. Did she care? Not at all. Someone reported her abuse and neglect and I was put into Foster care once more. I moved again. My first Foster family was nice until a couple of months had passed. My Foster mom started yelling and insulting me for anything I did. It hurt. And by this time, my bully levels were decreasing since I started standing up for myself. So I decided that I wasn't going to let an adult treat me like the others had. After yelling and fighting, I was put into a group home. Things were nice for a while. But then I grew depressed. Not a drastic case of depression. But it was there. But then my best friends mom took me in. And looking back, I was actually happy for once. No one fought. No one hated me. They insulted me sometimes, but they were the closest thing to an actual family I had ever had. But I screwed that up. I ran away hoping to find my biological sister. I knew where she was. And I knew how to get there. I got there in no time. But after four, short hours, the police came and picked m up. After that, I was put back into a group home. At that time, I stopped eating. I also stopped talking to those around me. I shut the world down and focused on drawing. And then, out of nowhere, my father showed up and took custody of me and my sister. Honestly, I wish I had never met him. Out of all the years he knew where I was, he didn't see me. Nor did he try to. So randomly coming into my life was confusing. Now. Present day: my father and I fight continuously. He insults me and I'm currently going through depression. I've asked for help. But no one wants to help. I started cutting not too long ago. It hurts. Yes it does. But its the only way to escape reality for me.
Now you know my story. I hope you don't judge me for this. But I am still smiling as the day goes by. And yes. I'm that girl. That girl who will say "I'm fine. I'm okay." Through the tears...