What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger

in #hardknocks8 years ago


There's no order to the things I'm writing here. It's my history, my life and why I am who I am. Some of these stories aren't for the feint of heart and there are definitely a lot of wtf moments.

There was this house we called #72, that's the actual house number. There were several apartments in this house and it was co owned by a millionaire and his outcast drug addicted son. I went to school with the son/grandson and it became the party house for hundreds of kids in the area. The youngest of the owners only partied there from time to time and check in on his sons. He actually lived in Craig Price's former apartment...shivers bruhhhh.

At #72 there was a super spacious luxury apartment with a small attached in law apartment in the basement. There was this old guy named "Lumpy" who lived in the basement. He'd drink with us all the time and he'd sweet talk the girls to give him some Newports that he'd swap out for Marlboros from the guys. He wasn't a dirty old man, he didn't try to keep us on the straight and narrow, but we never worried about being inappropriate either. Although I'm sure he saw his share of boobs!

There were boys living in one of the other downstairs apartments, the co-owner dad had an apartment outfitted down there too and his sons and other random kids frequented there. There were random girls living in one of the third floor apartments. The other third floor apartment was occupied by a crack head named Mary Ellen. When I say crack head it's not a metaphor, she was the real deal. I have no idea how old she was, I was in my early 20's but she looked like late 50's on a good day! She was frequently completely naked walking around the house without her teeth asking us to buy our ashes out of the ash tray. I admit I had to ask why the hell she wanted them. Apparently that's how some people smoke their crack with ashes to cut it? I'm still not really sure.

I was a straight A student who graduated 10th in my class. I never smoked cigarettes, weed or took any kind of pills. I was friends with everyone no matter what click they were in at the time. I never skipped class never mind school and I never went to any party like the ones you see on spring break. I lived at home while I was in college, I went a little crazy with my new found freedom. However I went home every night after the parties, I worked a 40 hour week and full time school and being such a straight edge I definitely kept most of my affairs under the radar of my parents.

So when this next part happened I was like WTF?? So like I said I was the damn golden child and I had never been in trouble in my life! One day I come home and there's 5 big black garbage bags on the porch. I head up the steps and my dad meets me outside with his arms across his chest. He informs me that he heard a kid that I've been hanging out with had scabies, that I am now a dirty bitch and I can get the F*ck out. I really stood there for I don't know how long and pondered WTF! Let me also point out that it was the middle of March in New England! There was a foot and a half of snow on the ground and it was snowing as this all played out.

I walked up the street and grabbed a friend. Before We had grown to over 20 teens strong, we were a close group of 6-10. We found an abandoned blast shelter from the granite company that hadn't been used in years. We dragged an abandoned couch out there and we spent many hours after school smoking weed and discussing our plans for world domination lol. So that's where I headed with my friend and all my worldly possessions. Of course this was a cement box with a square opening. Not a lot of warmth in the middle of winter. I used some large sticks and a blanket and that was that. I continued to work but I didn' t have a car so I couldn't get to school in the next state. I slept in the shack, partied at #72 and worked. I got a car soon after and my brother, his girlfriend and I took over one of the third floor apartments at #72 and what happened next is for another story. Thanx for listening and Blessed Be

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Hi! This post has a Flesch-Kincaid grade level of 4.6 and reading ease of 93%. This puts the writing level on par with Ernest Hemingway and Donald Trump.

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