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I had been here once before... The salty smell coming with the breeze blowing in from over the ovean. The sound of the waves crashing onto the sandy beach. All so familiar, yet, almost forgotten in the years past. I have memories of getting my finger caught in a clam and Ernie prying it off. Memories good and bad coming back, my head throbbing in effort to keep my emotions at bay. There was memories of nearly drowning and being rescued by my brother. Memories of racing gokarts. Then the bad, Ernie, drugs, alchohaul, him beating my mom and brother. Ernie locking us, (me and my brother.) in a shed with no windows, in 100 degree weather for hours. All because of a memory from a beach, all so vibrant almost new, even though I haven't seen him in almost 4 years. I will not see him anytime soon. Though his face is burnt into my memory, his rusty brown hair and beard, his deep brown eyes, the deep scar that runs from upper chest to belt line, and his short statur that this was all built onto is my biological father. No matter how far I push this image, however hard I try it just adds insult to injury. Pooring salt on a fresh wound. The tears flowing down my cheak, Stinging my face. I remember Ernie telling my brother "Tears are a sign of weekness," well, Ernie I'm week, I've given up the fight. The emotions flowing out and hitting my friends like waves on the beach. These will are not my only memories and will not be the only painful things. There will be more people, more disapointments. Most people make it threw they're life. but sometimes I wonder if I'm 'spose to be alive at all, but my friends convince me I should.



Please don't yell at me or Give me pitty this is true all true...unfortunetly