Hi there, I'm Sierra, Sierra Renee.
Obviously I can't tell you my full name since I am exposing my thoughts to the public.
Anyways, most people know me as CiCi. The truth about that though is that I like being called Sierra way better. It describes me in a way that I can't explain.
My story is typical.
I was born on January 22, 2000 in the United States.
My father is from the Dominican Republic.
My mother from New York.
My father came here when he was five and met my mother when he was in his twenties in New York.
They married and four years later came me.
I was raised out of pure positivity supported by big family from both sides.
For my mothers side, I was the first niece/grandchild of her five brothers and sisters and mother and father.
I was just another special outburst on my dad's big Hispanic side.
And was treated with love, at least that's what I've been told.
Two years later came my little brother Jiel and the next Christopher.
I was made out of kindness and respect, and never thought of evil or hate.
My laugh was obnoxious, but I never took a noticing towards it.
I was a people's pleaser and only wanted peace between everyone.
My parents designed me a room full of princesses, and I loved it very much, but I never slept in there at night.
I would always get up in the middle of the night and squeeze between the two of them.
I was prone to pink eye and various infections, yet my love for outside and friends grew bigger and brighter.
In 2008, my parents divorced... and I refused to think of it, to believe it.
I thought that I did something wrong, and went to clean the house more by myself to try and make things better. I thought that if I cleaned the house for them, they wouldn't leave each other.
My mom remarried a man and I got two older siblings. Bailey and Gerrin.
Our adventures and troubles are confidential...
At the sound of my parents divorce whenever it was brought up, I would need to take a moment and cry... by myself.
I started writing in 2009, when I was officially introduced to notebooks.
They became my passion.
And later I thought of trying to perfect myself so that I could survive life.
That began a year after I started writing in notebooks.
Notebooks were my only escape, and they still are up until this day.
Later on I struggled with choosing a faith, my mom's side Jehovah's Witnesses, or my dad's side Catholics.
I chose to just stay believing in God.
My mom is not a Jehovah's Witness any longer though.
I wrote my first song when I was five. It was horrible but I remember it clear as day.
I did have a lot of friends by my side. Some of those friends truly hurt, but all I could think of was the brighter side.
I still write songs, and I practice singing.
I was a horrible singer back when I was little, and most people told me that I really stunk at it, but I continued to sing with hopes of getting better.
I believe that I have gotten better, and others think so as well... I hope.
In 2011, I lost myself. The girl known with peace and a loving heart was gone.
My laugh has vanished along with my smile. They are all fake now.
What fills me is hate, negativity, sadness.
What more should I expect out of myself. I've been searching for three years now, and I am starting to give up.
I don't even know who I am, and why I'm like this....
Who am I?
What's wrong with me?
I told myself when I myself that I wouldn't be like this.
My grades plummeted to the ground.
I am slowly recovering myself but I don't know what to expect out of life.
I feel as though I have let God down, my parents down, EVERYONE down.
Anyways, I have to go. Talk to you tomorrow?
Thanks for reading this if you did. :) It means a lot.
This is my story. (Summarized of course.)