I was born October 11th 1997 in Palomar Hospital (Escondido California). I was the first and the last to be born in my family and grew up as an only child. From the day I was born I had lived in a custom built house in Hemet where I would stay for 8 years of my life. My house featured a swimming pool, a large play fort with swings, a balcony, slides and hardly no grass as it was practically a desert. In the earlier years I did go on a week cruise to Hawaii and a trip to Las Vegas, but that's practically the only good part of my early years. The first school I ever attended was De Anza Elementary school, which was the first of many schools I attended. I started school at the age of 4 and 1/2 as my parents and the school board thought I was smart enough to start early. I was also the tallest kid in every class. It wasn't easy, in fact I was picked on and excluded daily, along with being physically and verbally abused. Being tall wasn't the biggest problem I had, I had a bad habit of walking on my tippie toes. We're not talking about a small habit where every once in a while I would walk on my toes, we're talking about walking on my toes 24/7. It wasn't something to be controlled and wasn't my fault necessarily. You know how when you were little and you watched tv and saw ballerinas and all sorts of things and you wanted to be like them? I guess I wanted to be a ballerina. I did in fact try ballet once, but since I was so young and didn't want to be away from my parents as at this point I was very afraid of other children and possibly myself. I ended up crying and howling for my parents and never went back to that ballet school. The tippie toe problem was now a serious issue as there was no reason behind it and I wasn't aware I was doing it. The school began to notice this strange habit and began to question if there was something wrong with me mentally. My parents urged me to try to stop but I absolutely couldn't. After a few years this suspicion grew to the point where I was now forced to take an IQ test so they could place me in a "Special" class. To their surprise I tested way above the average for an 6 or 7 year old. I scored around a 114 while the average for my age was about 98 to 100 if they were lucky. So they had no grounds to put me in a special class. I continued on school at the elementary in an ordinary class. Around age 6 or 7 I was bullied by a girl by the name of Jade. Jade would wait outside the rest rooms for me and would find me at recess and would throw me to the ground, kick me, hit me, and call me horrible names. I don't think she ever was punished for it either. There was also several kids who would shove me out of line and kick me and hit me as well. Every time I went to the principal, nothing was ever resolved. In fact I would get in trouble for things I didn't even do instead of the bully. This caught on around the school and a lunch lady who didn't like my mom began to bully me as well. One day when I was eating my home made lunch, I didn't eat school lunch for many reasons, she approached me and began to order me to pick up some other kid's mess. Me being me I told her that it wasn't mine and told her no as I knew it was full of germs and wasn't my responsibility. She was now very angry will me and tattled me to the office and told them lies about me. This resulted in them forcing me to pick up trash allover the grass outside for hours and they also tried to give me detention. That was the last day I ever attended De Anza Elementary. My father heard about what they were doing and came and picked me up early that day. In the car I was crying and very upset and I had refused to go to detention for something I didn't do, My father simply told me that it would never go back to that school and he would deal with them. I never did go back to that school. They pulled me out of school that day and I was now home schooled at this point in time. Some talk began to arise between my parents about moving to Midwest since my father was born there and that the schools and air quality were over all better. My mom had before said no to moving but when I was 8 years old they finally agreed it was time. We packed up our stuff into our car, put our house for said, and took off on a 3 day journey by car. As an 8 year old it was very exciting to go off towards a new place and have a new start, but this wasn't going to be the only time I moved. At first we stayed with my grand parents on my father's side in Council Bluff's, things we're decent again for a while as now I attended Lewis Central Elementary and began to slowly get some new friends. My grand parent's house smelled of dogs no matter where we went and they had about 8 bulldogs, which was a start for my fear of dogs. Besides that, I was happy. No matter what I did though something had to go wrong, like before kids were excluding me and bullying me and I never felt so alone. Fights started to arise between my grandmother who was Bi-polar and my mother. My grandmother started to tell me things about my mom that weren't true and began to psychologically bully her and make us miserable. One day we had enough and we picked up all our stuff, stuffed it in the car, and drove away when she wasn't home. We barely missed her and we successfully got away. We drove to Bellevue which was around 30 minutes away and were searching for a house to rent. My mom became very stressed and dismayed until I spotted a for rent sign on a duplex on the street I would have my best memories on. That day we signed the paperwork and moved into the cramped duplex on the top floor. These years we were broke and poor and trying to find a way living in a two bedroom tiny duplex. Even through all this, I had the best years of my life. Every day I spent outside with the neighborhood kids out behind the duplexes next to the garages. We rode bikes, scooters, played with chalk, role-played, and even sold our stuff to each-other for real cheap. I met a boy who lived diagonally from me named Logan, and his brother who's name is a blur to me. I remember that me, Logan, and his brother used to pretend to be God, Jesus, and God's secret daughter, I began to develop some great acting skills and had so much fun those days. I spent sunrise to sundown outside playing this crazy game with them. Until my mother told me she didn't like us pretending to be God and all that. Did we quit? Nope. We changed the names to Light Man, Little Light Boy, and Little Light Girl. I had a crush on Logan for the longest time and never did get to tell him. Around a year Logan and his family moved away. I remember watching his RV drive up the hill away from me. He was looking at me from the back window with a saddened look on his face. Luckily I was moving a week later anyways. My dad had a new job opportunity in Columbus, Nebraska now. We again packed up and left for a new adventure. We lived in a house near the corner next to a large park. I attended a new elementary school and was bullied again, not a surprise to me at this point. There was a nasty rumor in 5th grade that I was a vampire that drank my own menstrual blood. Gross. Everyone hated me as usual. I at least had my computer and the internet. In 2009 I began to play Roblox, an online game where I was a lego like figure and built stuff and played with other people. Although I didn't ever build anything like I should've, I was happy because I finally felt loved. I had so many guys to choose from at age 12, I admit I was stupid, but I dated several guys at the same time and no one ever found out. I guess I had this internal need for companionship and love as I spent my early years being hated by other kids. The first guy to come along tricked me into thinking he was an angel, and so did the second one, and so did the third. Not an angel as in someone nice, but a legit angel. Why did I believe them? I had no reason not to I guess. I began to grow an obsession with the paranormal, especially angels and vampires. I dated a guy who claimed to be both. He was sweet, compassionate, mature, loving, everything I could ever want from a guy. He took care of me and made me happy. He spent all day with me role playing and having fun. It wasn't long until this relationship became abusive and manipulative. He went back and fourth from loving me to breaking up with me. For five years and counting I dealt with this guy. He broke up with me literally around 40 times. I had gone through my messages and counted and had around 30 after a year. The count after 5 years is probably at 100. It was ridiculous but I loved this guy so much that I was willing to do anything. He forced me to send some disturbing pictures to him and manipulated me into saying and doing whatever he wanted. I couldn't stop this abuse and just let it happen for 5 years. This ordeal left me mentally scarred and overly caution with what I say or do in a relationship. Again as expected though, I moved away taking my Roblox problems with me to Sioux City Iowa.