Ever since I was very young, I always had a very bad attitude. I was always angry, I fought with my sisters, I stole, started drinking at 12, I was the family rebel. I tried my best to be home as little as possible. I loved my mom and I hated feeling that I couldn’t spend time with her at home. There was a evil spirit that lived in our home, my “father”. I put that in quotations because I’ve never actually looked at him as my father. Yeah I had to smile and bull shit on Father’s Day, but I hated him. I remember hating him from a very young age. It was because of him that I grew up to fast, and that I didn’t get to have a happy home growing up. Now don’t get me wrong I’m 27 now and lord knows I still have a bad attitude, but when you grow up with so much hate in your heart it’s hard to get rid of it all…