Call me my brother and know that it is my name. This is my story and I will begin to show you my way.
The day that my brother murder his wife, we drove off the bridge. That day I saw my life flash by me with my eyes. I saw that day my Dad took me for my first ice cream cone and I dropped it on his shoe.
I saw the day my parents had their funeral.
I saw it the day I moved in with my aunt, but just like the rest of my relatives, she didn't want me.
As soon as a relative would take me in they always said the same thing over and over again, "I don't want you". Each time I heard that line I saw the same expression on each of their faces.
HURT.
In the beginning, I did not understand but I would soon be able to understand and realize why their expressions all showed that they were hurt.
