Full

I learned at a very small age that I'd have to live life to the fullest. Unfortunately, parents thought that living life to the fullest was a bad thing.

WHAT? That's crazy,but they were the ones that made me think this way.

I tried to explain to them, but as usual they didn't listen to me;I went on with my ways.

My parents spent all day, and sometimes even night working. The biggest worry in their life is money.

When I was small I wondered when, and at what time they ate. Now I figure, money is way more important than anything in their life's.

When I was a child filled with innocence, I didn't see that they didn't care for me. I didn't see that I was just in their way. I loved them once.... when I was a child.

Now, you could say I loved them, but it wasn't the same. I had this thing against them, I couldn't put my finger on it.

They never were there for me. They only were there for their bosses or clients.

Whenever my mom got called to go see a client, as she was a house relater. Immediately she would stop what she was doing, and go see them.

My dad on the other hand, was a Doctor. When he had an emergency, there was no way out of it. He was gone.

I'm not saying that me being healthy, was more important than a dieing person at the hospital. Or some one in need of a house. But I was in need of love.

I was unwanted kid, they had me on accident.

When I would ask my parents why they worked so much I would get this..." Lydia.. we work so we can have money" Of course it was for that reason, I mean that was their number one. I mentally slapped myself.

This is the response when I asked if they cared about me ?

" Honey it's why we work so you can have what you need. " Yet another excuse. They never made it exactly clear that they cared. They would be lieng if they said they did.

My moms parents had money, but they never really gave my mom what she wanted. Unless she worked for it.

My dad on the other hand, was poor. His parents wanted him to be happy, and know what it was like to afford things,but they just could'nt.

I kind of hated money at some point in my life, but it helps out in difficult situations.

My parents would work all week. It seemed like 24/7. I stayed with my baby sitter.

I think I was old enough to stay alone, and when I turned nine I began to stay home alone. Now I see I was way to young. The legal age is thirteen, I enjoyed it though, better than staying with a nasty, stinky baby sitter.

My parents only payed her because it was cheap. They were throwing their money away because I had to take care of myself anyway. She spent the whole time sleeping.

 In the end of it they would give me money for being good, either for being alone or with the baby sitter. I would get happy, and forgive them.

I sensed they would give me money to cover the fact that I was alone the whole week.

I would go out with my friends. Then I would get in trouble when I came back, for something bad I did. My excuse was that I had to make the weekend worth the whole week of boredom I had.

 As I started to grow I decided not to care if I got in trouble or not. I did whatever I wanted.When I wanted. That was better that money....In a way.

One day it was a year ago last summer, I got into a car accident for racing.

I was going way to fast and, I was beating the guy I was racing by far.His name is Robert. He was to scared to push the pedal. He was scared to take it to far.

Robert didn't want to go to school the next day, and deal with everyone making fun of him. So he got his guts together, and speed up beside smiled, and crashed into me.On purpose by the way if it wasn't clear.

I lost control; now he didn't have to deal with the bullies at school.

He didn't mean to hurt me. He just didn't want to lose. In the moment I lost control, all I could think about was stopping. I pressed on the brake. It didn't stop immediately, but after what seemed forever I made a fast stop.

I hit my head on the steering wheel, and thankfully I had my seat belt on. Which was one of the few times.If not I would have flown out.After all that I lost all conscience of everything that was happening.

I woke up at the hospital everyone explained to me that I had been out for two days, and what made me stop hard was a tree.