When I was born my mother was only 17, at age 16 was when i was concieved. My mother was still in highschool which she had dropped out when she found out she was pregnant with me. My mother 16 and my father at 21 was living in a moble home on my great grandparents land. My grandmother my mothers own birthmother was always working and at the time was with an abusive man when he drank. Therefore my mother lived on her own. My grandmother was an enabler, she found out my mother was smoking and went and bought her ciggerettes. Soon my parents had got a house in oklahoma city on the south side a small run down house in a very bad neighborhood. When i was born I was 2.3 lbs, I was 3 months premeture. At the time that i was born my mother and father had split up. Although on the day of my birth my father was there at the hospital. I had to stay in the hospital for a long time due to me being so premature and small. My parents ended up making up and getting back together for me. (Which personally i do not think that people should stay together just because of a child or children. In the end it does not make it easier for children, I grew up to argueing and fighting constantly.)
By the time I was able to leave the hostpital and age one i was in 5 car accidents. One of which i could of died due to 2 gallons of milk which went right over my head. When the car had finally came to a stop i was not making a sound. My parents both rushed to get to the backseat, the car still upside down smashed against a concrete barrier, they unbuckled me to which i started screaming. I started screaming because i was pissed off that they woke me up, what can i say i am a miracle baby . When I was 2 i had recieved 2nd and 3rd degree burns on the palms and back of my hands . That is when i learned what coffee is, and to not just grab things. I was playing by the table and my father had stepped away leaving his just brewed coffee right on the table which i had grabbed and spilled all over me. At age 3 i had nemonia which left me in the hospital again. Growing up i did not have the best luck my body seemed to like me in the hospital.
When i was young i was daddies little girl, my dad used to play with me and i would help him build stuff (really just make a mess and take things he needed). My father is a contracter, he remodles homes mostly. Then at age 5 my mother was having to go outside and search the yard every morning before i could go outside and play. One morning she woke up at 3am to police sirens and lights in our front yard. A drug dealer had been in the area running from the police and had thrown drugs in our yard. Then at that moment is when my mother said that she could not deal with it anymore and we moved to the country. I went to a very low populated school, where i lived was so small that we did not even have a post office nor were we concitered an individual town. When i started school i went by the nickname "bj". When my mother was age 12 she had a friend wich initials where bj, as young friends they talked about marriage and families just like and little girls do. Then is when they promised each other that when and if they had children they would name them after each other. Bj died at age 12 and a half due to a drunk driver. So that is why i went by bj, at age 5 when i started school i did not think anything of it. I just went by it cuz thats always what my parents called me and i didnt want to write my real name as it is long.