It all started a while in a small nothing of a town I don't really care to say exactly where. I was jut a baby and we lived out on a ranch that was owned by some friends of my mother's family. I have been told that my father was worse than useless, and even after my grandfather spent several thousand dollars on equipment so that he could work on the oil wells around the ranch and other property that our friends owned my father spent most of his time and money in the living room or in various bars getting drunk, and did very little actual work. What work he did do before we where kicked out and my parents separated had to redone by an outside contractor due to the poor quality of the work he did. When I was about a year and a half to three years old, I am not sure exactly how old I was as I changes a little depending on who was telling me the story, My mother was left alone and had no job of her own, and thus was unable to care for me. At this time her sister took me in and adopted me as her own child. About that same time I don't even know who it was, and I'm not entirely certain any one I know remembers who but some one broke two of my fingers one on each hand and they where never set properly so I have had to go threw life with hands that have always hurt me because of the constant pressure that those two fingers put on my other fingers since they are not straight.
While I was growing up I had a reasonably good life. In that I mean that I had a good family that cared for me and I normally didn't go for wanting something. MY child hood was not really what you might have called a happy one though. I have never been in very good shape physically and the few times I did try to get into better shape than I was I aggravated some medical conditions that I have had all my life.
I can not run for more than a quarter of a mile or maybe a little less or I bring on an asthma attack. I have yet to have a truly bad attack but I know that it is only a matter of time. I only had one true friend as I was growing up for years we did everything together except in school. We are the same age but he was born later in the year so was not allowed to start the same time I was. In school I was always an outcast usually the brunt of any joke that was played even some of the teachers would join in on the jokes against me. It made me hate school, and to this day I still do but I did not let them take from me my desire to learn. When ever I was at school I told my friend to either ignore the jokes against me or to join in as I did not want him to be a target for the bullies as well. My first few years of school where the worst since the bullies that like to beat on those smaller than them decided that I was a good target as I never did anything to the ones that made fun of me and teased me. When I was in the fourth grade I got cornered by three fifth graders that decided it was going to be fun to beat me up before they went home that day. I had by then how ever had enough of getting beat on. Even though I was not in good shape I could move quickly when I needed to just not for very long so I knew I would never be able to out run them. Being shorter than them, and generally considered weak I surprised them when they attacked me and instead of cowering or trying to run I lunged out and caught the leader of the group hard on the inside of his right knee causing him to fall to the ground in pain. I used what distraction that caused to slip back inside the school where there where teachers still wandering the halls. I never saw those three again so I don't know if they tried to report me or just gave up and moved their beatings on to some one who wouldn't fight back.
In school I barely got by in most of my classes, and I think a lot of my teachers had it in for me and where changing some of my grades to make it harder on me. More than a few times when they thought I wasn't looking their way I caught ugly looks from many of them. One class I enjoyed the teacher in most years in school was math I have always excelled in math. My parents even got the school counselor to give me an aptitude test when I was half way threw the fifth grade the scores indicated I was able to do many math problems that where only taught to kids in the eleventh grade, but my level of ability in writing was way below average I was able to write as well as some one in the second grade. I blame many of my teachers for this they would signal me out always and tell me I was wrong when I was doing things a certain way. Yet only one or two ever bothered to take the time to try and explain to me how I was wrong and what I should have done instead. I always felt sorry for her because she was one of the last English teachers I had and even though she tried her hardest to correct the errors that had been made in my education. I was too far behind where I should have been, and my time with her was limited. She did try several times to get me to sign up for private tutoring sessions with her, but I was mistrustful of her because she was a teacher and I suspected she was only going to spend the whole time ridiculing me for not doing it right like so many of my tea