Pretty Memories : ( Tyga Story )

Faith

I used to lay around locked in my room mad at the world, thinking that everything bad that happen to me was my fault . Once things went down hill it stayed there for a long ass time . Nobody could help me and if they did I pushed them away . It came to the point where I just couldn’t take it anymore .

I tired everything, drinking and taking a bottle full of pills, cutting my wrist, and walking in front of cars on my way home from school . They said the pretty ones have it the best but that’s complete bullshit, it doesn’t matter how pretty you are, anything can happen to everyone . .

After years of pain and trying to end it all the courts gave me two choices, 1.) Go to a Rehabilitation Center and then live in a foster home or 2.) Still take my ass to a Rehabilitation Center and then move in with my aunt and her daughter . I didn’t want to put a family through so much stress if they had to deal with me so I moved in with my aunt .

Shit got even harder for me but I put it behind me . Auntie don’t play no shit either, you mess up or disobey her that’s your ass . I love her though, I owe her my life she may have been tough on me but I know it’s out of love, without her I wouldn’t be here .

My stupid bitch of a Mom told me when I was little she hated the day I was born, I was a mistake and she didn’t want me in the first place, if it wasn’t for her sister my stupid ass wouldn’t have been here, she was going to abort me, and that when I get older the same shit is going to happen to me and that I was going to amount to nothing like her . Nothing hurts more then hearing from your own mother at a young age that she hated you and wish she never had you .

Anyways let’s bring it back to modern day . You know my name not my story and I’m not comfortable opening up but I guess now I have no choice, only one person knows my whole life story and that’s my cousin Bria . You meet her later though .

Don’t start feeling bad for me now, shit I could fill a whole damn book with the things I went through . . .