narrative essay on my life
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When I was born I was a premature baby. My “parents” didn’t care. It was there fault. My “Mother” was probably plastered on budweiser and pot the whole time she was pregnant with me. It is a miracle I was even born. But when I was born, a lot of my body parts weren’t finished developing. My lungs were premature, and I am cursed with asthma. My mom probably didn’t care. I was a broken condom. We'll were. But after that day, that was when my hellish life started. And to me when it ended too.
When I was finally able to go “home”, after the many weeks in the hospital, my mom celebrated. Her version of celebration was probably getting drunk and high, then going out to make a few deals.
When I was finally able to go “home”, after the many weeks in the hospital, my mom celebrated. Her version of celebration was probably getting drunk and high, then going out to make a few deals.
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