We grew up with nothing

>We grew up with nothing.
>My parents were so poor that they couldn't afford condoms, and probably too uneducated to realize how easy it is to get free ones.
>We grew up in a gang-ridden, roach infested apartment, across the street from the local projects.
>My brother and two sisters.
>None of them stood a chance.
>I was the middle child.
>My dad always told me when it came to selling drugs, real dealers wore suits to work, and the real marketplaces was offices, not the streets.
>I didn't realize what he meant until much later in life, only a few years ago.
>I went to the doctors for my back, which was in agonizing pain following a car accident.
>They gave me ibuprofen, which is basically fucking tylenol.
>I told my aunt in law, who was pushing 70 at the time, and she showed me her stash. Oxy, Morphine, you name it.
>The real drug dealers wore suits to work. They got their supply from the pharmaceutical companies, and sold them to the rich and the elderly.
>My aunt in law had harder drugs than any street nigga I'd ever met in my life growing up in the hood.
>You'd think growing up mixed in the hood would be a bit of a blessing, but it really wasn't. It just meant we were too white to fit in with the blacks and too black to get let off by the police.
>When I was 12 years old, my brother was shot and killed. He was 16 years old, selling weed in the projects. Some thugs got sick of him selling on their turf and shot him eight times in the chest.
>What I remember most from that day, was how little of a fuck the cops gave.
>They knocked on our door, told us my older brother was dead, and the way they said it, it was like they were talking about a hamster. No emotion. No care. They told us outright it was gang related and they weren't investigating.
>By the time I was 13, my older sister, still 15, was already addicted to crack and was a gang bitch.

>She became a prostitute at 17, and within months she disappeared - either she shacked up with a man or she died. We never found out.
>My dad pimped my mom out to make ends meet.
>Do you know how fucked up it was for me to be a teenager, watching my dad pass by my mom's customers in the hall?
>I got a part time job by the grace of god.
>Working at the local McD's, sweeping floors, cleaning shit, puke and cocaine from the bathrooms, getting spat on by fat black bitches and slapped by cheap niggers who didn't understand we don't accept food stamps.
>People would threaten to kill me over a happy meal, and if I didn't stand my ground and refuse to give them their food for .40cents cheaper than the menu price, my boss threatened to fire me.
>I had a cute coworker at the McD's. She kept her poofy black girl hair in a bun, and she was short and skinny.
>She wore glasses with a crack in the right lens.
>They were bent because her family couldn't afford a new pair so she had to wear the glasses she'd gotten when she was 11, even though she was now 16.
>Hell, the prescription was probably completely wrong by that point.
>Sometimes after work if the sun was still up we'd smoke up in the park two blocks away.
>I'd walk her home through the hood.
>A dude could get robbed, but a girl? So I chanced it. I figured if some brother with a knife was so desperate he'd kill my ass for the bus fare I kept in my pockets, he could have it.
>I liked her. She was sweet, and she was smart. She wanted to get out of the hood. She was saving her pay checks to buy an apartment for her and her mom on the other side of town.
>It was never going to happen. Her mom spent all her pay checks on heroin and crack rocks.
>But it's important to dream in the hood. If you don't dream, you become just another hood rat.
>I remember sometimes we'd disappear in the fridge and make out for a bit, or she'd blow me in her mom's apartment.
>She was my first love.
>I had it bad I guess.

>One day, she got off work before me, by 30 minutes.
>When I got off, I walked around the corner, and she was on the ground, crying, naked, held down by 3 kids. One was fucking her.
>I stopped for a minute, and one of the kids pulled a gun from his waistband and said "the fuck you looking at, bitch?"
>He shouted at me like I was the asshole.
>I didn't want to be a hero. I didn't want to die. What was I supposed to do?
>She looked me right in the eyes, and I just turned around and walked away.
>She never came back to work again.
>She dropped out of school and that was the last I heard of her.
>A guy in my apartment building grew weed.
>His guy moved out of the hood so he gave the job of selling to me.
>I sold most of it to my little sister's boyfriend.
>He was kind of an asshole - a real scummy piece of shit who always begged people for money.
>One time I came home, and my sister's face was all bruised.
>I was never really close to my sister, but she was the only family I really had left by the time I was 19.
>Mom had run off with one of her johns and dad became an alcoholic, living on welfare.
>Her boyfriend came over, and I remember just beating the shit out of him. As soon as she opened the door, I shoved her out of the way and punched him in the mouth about a dozen times, dragged him down the hall, threw him down the stairs and told him if he ever raised a fist to my sister again I'd bury him.
>My sister was mad at me.
>"I love him!" "I deserved it!" Poor thing.
>I calmed her down, told her the way he was wasn't ok, and she needed to respect herself more than that.
>The guy was too old for her anyways. He was 21, dating my sister.
>She promised to break up with him.

>The next day on my way home from work, this sedan kept following me
>driving by real slow
>When I got to a nearly empty street, five guys hopped out of the car, just left it in the middle of the road.
>I ran, they chased me.
>My sister's boyfriend and his boys.
>They caught up to me, and beat me half to death.
>they broke my nose and left me bleeding on the sidewalk.
>To this day, I remember how people just walked over me, like I was just a puddle. I sat, beaten, robbed, and bloody, and nobody even cared.
>Finally this homeless dude came and helped me up.
>He had to be 60, with long, curly grey hair and a scraggly beard. His skin was filthy and his clothes were rags.
>He asked me what happened.
>I told him I slipped and fell.
>The cops didn't care. If you snitched in the hood, they'd give you up and let the gangsters deal with you.
>You have to understand, the system is designed to fuck you in the ass as much as possible. The poorer you are, the harder it fucks you.
>When you're poor, you have less security, no safety nets, and no assurances. You live in less secure neighborhoods, with more dangerous people. You don't get any help, and often times you have to resort to crime just to survive, so the system takes you in, slaps a criminal record on you, and makes it impossible for you to get out poverty.

>I was lucky enough to never get caught stealing or selling weed.
>But I was still fucked.
>When I got home that night, after my beating, my sister was in tears and apologized
>She said she'd dump him.
>She went missing for 3 days. When she came home her throat was bruised, she had a black eye, and her clothes were torn.
>She had a glossed over look. I asked if she broke up with her boyfriend. She said to me in the most deadpan and emotionless voice I ever heard, "Nah, I love him. Me and him worked it out."
>What could I do?
>I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't listen.
>If I intervened, he'd have killed us both.
>I decided I had had enough of the hood. But I wasn't smart, and I barely graduated high school, and I had no money for college.
>So I did the only thing I could think of. I quit my job and signed up for the army.
>I finished basic at the worst possible time - it was time for the war in Afghanistan.
>I deployed, and started my tour of duty.
>I won't say much about it. but I will talk about the first time I shot someone.
>I had never killed anyone before.
>I didn't really think I had made a mistake in my career choice and I wasn't really educated enough to be critical of the war yet.
>But we were in the middle of an operation.
>We started taking fire. I had been in gun fights before, I had seen bodies, but I had never actually killed someone.
>My friend tony shot this kid, probably about 17. He had a rifle in his hands.
>The kid was hit in the eye, he dropped immediately.
>As he died, this man let out an ungodly screech and ran towards the kid.
>I could see the tears in his eyes as I lined my sights up.
>He knelt down beside this kid and started shaking his body.
>a bullet wizzed passed me and I squeezed the trigger out of panic
>I hit him in the chest.
>I ducked down behind cover with my friend, and we just hugged our rifles and cried.
>There was no adrenaline rush.
>Just the crushing realization that I just killed a man.

Keep going, op.

>I killed one other person while on my tour of duty, and wounded several others.
>I hated it. I regretted joining the army every day of my life.
>When I went home, I could adjust. Not for a long time.
>I went to all the veteran get together and would shoot the shit with my buddy, but I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't focus.
>I eventually became homeless, and couch surfed for a while, until I finally decided to track down my little sister.
>She had a son now, and lived alone with him in a better neighborhood. She had cut her boyfriend loose after she had the baby, and she got government benefits and welfare. Enough to get her out of the hood.
>She stripped at nights for money, so she was happy to have me home. She let me stay on the promise that I'd watch her boy while she was stripping.
>I liked babysitting. Her boy was a good kid, even if he was that man's child.
>Of course he never paid child support, but fuck it. If he did, he'd be close enough to hurt her, so forget him.
>My sister and I talked a lot in the early hours of the morning, when she would get home.
>She was a survivor, just like me. If anything, her time in the hood might have been worse than my time at war.
>She talked about how she was sorry for not listening, sorry for being stupid.
>She struggled with drugs and gambling. She always tried to be a good mother, but sometimes her vices got the best of her.
>On the weeks that she came up short, she'd let the fat, white douchebags who came in take her home, rough her up, fuck her, just for the extra cash.
>I remember thinking she's been through more than any soldier I ever met.
>One afternoon she woke up, and she was crying.
>She was hysterical.
>She begged me not to make her go to work
>She begged me to save her
>I didn't know what to do
>I crushed up some pills I scored and gave her a J to smoke and she was able to settle down enough to go in to work.
>It was soul crushing for her.

N-nice include me in the screencap please

fuck off

TL;DR

No one cares you faggot pussy bitch

Include me in the screencap too

Quite the read op.

Popped a little tear in me eye that one did

is that it?

This.

>I ducked down behind cover with my friend, and we just hugged our rifles and cried.

pussy. ass. bitch.

>look at me be edgy with fill stop punctuation!!! I'm so cool!!!!?

Plz

>So when she hung herself a week after her son turned 8, I couldn't blame her.
>I wanted time to mourn.
>I couldn't take the time though.
>She had died, and left me with an 8 year old boy to take care of.
>I thought of it like war, and figured I was a soldier, so I just had to do what soldiers do: suck it up and make what needed to happen, happen.
>I wasn't a good father. I left him alone for hours at a time while I slaved away in a walmart.
>I was impatient.
>I tried my best but what could I do? I didn't know dick about raising kids.
>And I was getting old. Not in body, but in spirit.
>I felt withered. Stretched.
>I didn't live in the hood anymore but I was still poor.
>A breaking point for me came one morning, driving home in my new car, filled with presents for my nephew, and just some nice shit for myself.
>It was midnight.
>I stopped at a stoplight and this dude ran up to me with a shotgun, threw open my door and started beating me with the butt of the gun.
>He tried yanking me out, screaming at me to get my seatbelt off.
>I wanted to fight for it, but I remember my training as a soldier
>It went like this: if he has a gun and you don't, then you do whatever the fuck you're told. That's how you survive.
>I got my seatbelt off
>As he was pulling me out of the car, i grabbed his gun and wrestled with him.
>He slammed it into my groin and knocked me off, and jumped in the car. The police caught up to him under an hour later, but the damage to my mind was already done.
>I was getting tired.
>Tired of violence.
>Tired of drugs.
>Tired of bullshit.
>What was I supposed to do though? Abandon my nephew?
>So I slogged on forward, the depression getting worse.
>I remember thinking "fuck, I can't wait for this kid to get out of the house so I can blow my brains out."
>I started carrying my gun everywhere. Ironically, as soon as I started carrying, I never needed it again.

moar

This is an interesting story and I'm sure there are people out there that have or are living it, but the OP is way too eloquent with his words for someone with this type of background. Keep going, though.

Bump

>I thought this was it. This was my life. Until I met a woman.
>I'm ashamed to admit my experience with real women was pretty non-existant. I mostly hooked up with hookers.
>I met a beautiful girl at work.
>She was the new girl.
>Wide hips, long, braided hair, trendy clothes, a round butt, she was one hell of a woman.
>We hit it off immediately. We hooked up within a week of meeting and we were on and off fuck buddies for months before we finally entered a relationship.
>She introduced my nephew to her sons, and they became thick as thieves. The boys were best friends instantly.
>My nephew, by the way, was getting a little reputation. He wasn't bad, but he was fighting some of the more thuggish kids and he was winning.
>The woman's sons got my nephew into sports though, and he was able to get his aggression out that way.
>We married not long after, and it was great.
>She was actually pretty well off, and she got a good corporate job shortly after we moved in together.
>We were doing pretty well.
>We managed to put together a college fund for her boys and my nephew, and things were looking great.
>I went to school, learned all kinds of shit. I flunked out but got really into reading.
>Life looked pretty ok.
>One night in the middle of summer, we were having a date night.
>She was driving.
>Some kids from the hood were drunk and high, and were driving around the city.
>Cops were already looking for them by the time we encountered them.
>They slammed into our car, the driver's side.
>My wife was killed instantly, and the driver of their car was launched out the windshield. No seatbelt.
>The passenger died on scene too, and one of the two in the back died from head trauma in the hospital later.
>I was concussed and I hurt my back climbing out the car window but i was ok.
>I remember going to the funeral for those boys.
>The one who survived, he walked up to me
>He was crying and he dropped to his knees and he begged me forgive him.

Bump

>I said God is the one who forgives; Let me take you to him.
>I shot him in the heart.
>The cops arr

bump

bump

>Ask them why they did this
>He told me "you didn't reply to this post"

The fact that there's an anime gif from tumblr ruins just how real this post could've been

>I knelt down, and I hugged him, and I told him "I forgive you son. I'm glad you're ok. I forgive you."
>He wasn't a bad kid, and he wasn't the one driving. He was just uneducated, and didn't think.
>That didn't make him a bad person.
>The money my wife left behind, it went to the kids for college.
>One of her... our sons is still in school.
>He wants to be a doctor.
>My dad died from cancer this year.
>I went to his funeral and I couldn't even cry.
>My mom was there.
>At first I was angry at her. She abandoned us, ran off with her new man.
>But I started to feel sorry for her.
>She lost 2 of her children, her ex husband, another of her children went missing and was never seen again, and I was all that was left.
>Her man left her for a younger girl. Couldn't blame him. If a pretty 19 year old white girl with blonde hair and a tight little butt was begging for me, I'd probably drop everything too.
>I went over to mom, and I gave her a hug. I told her I loved her, said I was sorry for not keeping in touch. I showed her pictures of her grandson and she was happy.
>I ended up losing my job due to depression and alcoholism.
>It's hard not to drink.
>It's easy to get lots of booze for almost nothing.
>People wonder how the poor can afford to be alcoholics and druggies. It's because that shit is easier to get than a degree and doesn't require you have a stable address.
>I see on the TV Mr. Trump is running for president these days, against Mrs. Clinton.
>I don't know much about them, but my sons tell me I should vote for Mrs. Clinton.
>I don't have the heart to tell them I don't vote. After the war, I realized what a joke the government and democracy was.
>Mrs. Clinton, Mr. Trump, they're all the same thing. Just suits getting paid to fuck the poor and give breaks to the rich.
>I don't do much of anything these days.
>I saw that boy, the one from the car accident. He works at the liquor store.
>He's a good lad.

Bump

Fuck man that's one hard knock life

It sounds like your life was flip turned upside down. After more then a few guys were making trouble in your neighborhood

>I don't know much about them, but my sons tell me I should vote for Mrs. Clinton.
what a failure

Bumping for OP

20 bucks says this turns out to be a fanfic of some kind.
This is written too dramatically to be a real recollection of events.

>tumblr filename
get out

This is all leading to the inevitable conclusion that East Asians are the master race

>My oldest son brought a girl home last weekend for dinner. He told me he'd been together with her for 8 months, and he was thinking of getting her a ring.
>I told him that was fantastic. I told him to call his grandmother and tell her.
>I asked if he needed money.
>He told me he was fine. He makes more in a month than I get in a year anyways.
>I hugged him, and I cried, telling him how proud his mother would be if she could see him.
>My nephew called and told me he tracked down his father, but his father was still a piece of shit.
>I told him it didn't matter. That man was an asshole and he didn't need that in his life.
>He agreed.
>I remember, when he was a teenager, he asked me why his mom had him.
>I told him the truth
>he hurt her, and made her think she deserved it.
>He asked me if having me was a punishment to her.
>If she loved him or if he was just her burden.
>I slapped him one, and I told him she loved him more than anything, she loved him so much that she got together her courage and left his dad to keep him safe.
>He never questioned his mom again.
>I think a lot about killing myself these days.
>The boys don't need an alcoholic in their life now.
>I've arranged for them to be taken care of.
>They'll be fine without me.
>Sometimes I sit in my living room with my colt and a 5$ bottle of wine, and think about shooting myself.
>I wonder what would happen next?
>Someone would hear the noise, call the cops, and they would kick open my door and drag me off the morgue.
>What happens next? I always wondered who would clean my blood out of the carpets? Would the cops send a guy, or would the landlord have to hire somebody?
>I wondered if I should hang myself instead. Less messy. More considerate of the landlord and my neighbors. But I suppose the smell would permeate the room.
>Sometimes I sit in the bathtub. If I shoot myself in there, the clean up wouldn't be so bad. It's tile.

> anime gif

You weeabs man

bump

>And that's where I fall asleep - in the bathtub, bottle in one hand, loaded gun in the other.
>When I wake up, my back hurts terribly.
>I get up, take some of my aunt's painkillers, and get through my day.
>I'd taken to browsing the internet for hours. It feels nice to keep up with what's hip these days. I save pictures and gifs all day long.
>I downloaded that pokemon game.
>I remember watching that when I was a teenager, but I never really played the games.
>I caught a butterfree the other day, its one of the only pokemons I remembered from when I was a kid. Still haven't found a Pikachu but I have a squirtle now, which is nice.
>Sometimes I go for walks with the old black woman across the hall, and we just catch pokemons together. It must look so stupid for us to be out there, running around catching little critters with 12 year olds, but it gets us outside and that's important.
>Night comes and I get my bottle and my gun again, and the cycle repeats.
Maybe tonight's the night, and maybe not. I don't know.

My mom and dad had 4 kids, and once I go no one will remember them. Just a family of nobodies, who dared to think they could get out of poverty.

My kids will remember me fondly. They'll cry at my funeral and move on with their lives, and it'll be like I never existed.

And after all these years, that doesn't seem so bad.

God bless.

I... I don't understand?

Pic with timestamp of gun and face or fuck off

Don't know if this is actually true or not, but I know if my dad killed himself, I'd be devastated.

Stay golden.

Keep on and support the kids.

Good luck

Stay alive for the kids sake

Dam son

Timestamp or fake.
You might as well as said you were a girl.

I can't really argue with you if you decide to go through with it, but ask yourself if you've really reached the end. Assuming the story is true you've got people you need to help out and people that'd miss you.

>Keep up with what's hip these days
Sup Forums and anime are on that list? Who is this character?

thanks for sharing your story user

I wish you well OP

That's a shitty life. Mostly I'd say you need to find your final sister. Like....there has to be someone who knows what happened. Probably a pretty cool story. Also...are you black or white.

I think he's lightskin

Godspeed OP, that's rough. For what you say, you did shit well, you're very much alright.

Also, you really do sound like a survivor, is it really the end for you? Maybe you can try to enjoy life and not give a fuck about anything, for a change, after all if that fails and you go bankrupt well you had your fun and you were dying anyways

Damn user that was rough. I mean I thought I had a shitty life when I grew up but it doesn't even compare to the shit you went through. My advice is to keep on trucking. Attend some AA meetings or something to help with your alcohol problems. Maybe get a therapist or take some anti depressants. You got out of the hood and have survived that long why quit now? You're the only parent those kids have. Even if I was 50 and my dad died at 80 I would be devastated. That's my input user but you do you.

He's white

honestly id say you should get some treatment for alcohol addiction and depression.

Don't bother going to AA meetings for alcohol addiction, it doesn't work. There are drugs that alcohol addiction experts can give you that will kill the cravings for alcohol + therapy that will keep them down for good

Nothing in this thread is real, dumbfucks.

It was a good writing excercise

Only death is real, user.

try to write it all down, it helps

Can I make a movie of your life OP?

that was an excellent read. god bless, OP

how does it feel knowing your stupid little sob story (which barely anyone will read, and no one will believe) could've easily been prevented if the elites of your worthless country decided on giving enough money to the government for EVERYONE (including the rich) to gain $2500 a month?
your stupid siblings wouldn't have to have been associated with gangs, your retarded family didn't need to live in substandard living conditions.

yet it do, how does this make you feel?

>We grew up in a gang-ridden, roach infested apartment, across the street from the local projects.
op is black

muh hero nigga

how old are you now op ?

someone screencap this shit

Wish you the best op, hope you find happiness one way or another

>I started carrying my gun everywhere. Ironically, as soon as I started carrying, I never needed it again.
Why the fuck weren't you carrying the second you got out of the military?

What's so wrong making you want to kill yourself

If white no kill. If black kill

Oh and then no one would ever fucking work again. "Hey let's just give EVERYONE money to live. It has to work right?". No one would work, the amount of people that sit on their ass and collect something is high enough. Nice try Mr. Sanders

why join the army if your not mentally capable of being in a firefight. Shit makes you fucked up down the road