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Turning 18

"It's just another birthday." I told myself.  "Friday, October 14, 1977 will be like any 
other day." 
Now, if your wondering why I hate my birthday, it's because my mother, my father, 
and my two little brothers were shot and killed when I turned 7. They were out 
getting me a present, and some thug wanted their money. My dad being my dad, 
refused to give the man what he wanted. The man pulled out a gun and shot him in 
the head, letting my family watch. My mom screamed, and tried to run with my two 
year old brothers, but he was too fast, and they were shot too. The man fled, and 
was never found. I was at home when I found out. I walked home from a great day 
at school, and expected to find my family sitting on the couch, waiting with gifts for 
me. But when I turned the door knob, getting excited, I realized they weren't there. 
I looked all around the house, but they weren't there. So, I waited. And waited. And 
as the clock striked ten, I knew they weren't coming home. I started to sob, and I 
ran into my brother's room, and scooped up their favorite teddy bear an pressed it 
to my chest, silently praying that they were alright. I took the bear, Harry they had 
called it, and ran into my parents room. I curled up in their bed, and smelled their 
smells that still lingered on the pillows. I clutched everything I could, and cried 
myself to sleep.
Adoption was really the only option. The memory of having to throw away certain 
memory's still haunts me. I kept my parents pillow, and my brothers Harry. Also, I 
always wore the ring my parents gave me when I was 4. It squezzes my finger, so 
it won't come off any time soon. I was soon forced to say good-bye to my 
childhood, and all the memory's in it. I got lucky for once, and was adopted by a 
man named Berry Gordy. He took pity on me after hearing my story. He took me 
in, and treated me just like be did all his other children. I met everyone in the 
Motown family, and became good friends with a few of them. One being Michael 
Jackson. Although, we all call him Mike. Mike is the best friend I could have asked 
for. He's also the reason why I didn't end my life, when I became a depressed 16 
year old. 
I'm now on the path of becoming a detective, and then I might catch this man. But, 
right now is my birthday. And I'm drowning in every moment in it.

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