My earliest memory is my father screaming at me on the side of the road, asking if I wanted to go with ''the slag'' or him. He then threw our house keys onto the road and stormed off, leaving me worrying I was going to end up alone with a dead mother because the road was busy. Then the next day my father re-appeared like fuck all happened, smiling at me, and my mother just essentially told me to get over it. It wasn't that big of a deal but I wish I had something better to say when people asked me what my childhood was like. I only remember all the bullshit, like my mother telling me my father would never truly love me because he saw her in me (she cheated). Or my grandfather calling me a cruel and heartless monster because I accidentally hit my sister with a swing, and subsequently revoking any kind of love or affection he had for me because he couldn't hide his alcoholic tendencies around me. Or that my school lied about me having a disorder for years so they could receive funds.