Everyone wants to be different from the next person. They want something that sets them apart from everyone else. And to be completely honest, I don't think I'm different from anyone else. The only thing that is different is how I was brought up. I wasn't brought up like a "normal" family. Or what passes off as normal in this world. I never had that classic tv family who sat around the dinner table, talking about their day. I never grew up with a perfect mother or father. At a very young age, I was taken from my mother. I spent a few days in foster care with my two older siblings. After that, I was placed with my uncle and my grandmother. I didn't even know who my father was and at that time, I didn't really care that much. I thought that anybody who didn't want to be in their own daughter's life didn't need to be thought about or met. I used to watch anti-depressant commercials or group homes ones and I remember thinking I would never end up like that. I remember thinking that why would anyone want to kill themselves when the world that we lived in was so amazing. But that was until I got older and felt the cruelness of the same amazing world I thought I lived in. My mother eventually came back into my life and everything was good. That was until me and my sisters got taken for good. We got put into foster care and got split up. We didn't get to see each other as often as we'd like, but we had to deal with it. I remember promising my little sister, who was only 10 years old at the time, that I wouldn't leave and if I did I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye. But that was a short-lived promise. The very next day, I was taken again and put in a different foster home. Me and my sister eventually got placed with my uncle in our home town. And we were happy. But that was short-lived as well. I was attending my second year of 7th grade. That's when I started to get bullied. I was going through a lot of changes. I was questioning my sexuality. And my fellow classmates didn't like that. So they bullied me. And I did the only thing I knew was right. I refused to go to school and I ran away from my problems. My uncle was working in Atlanta and he had to leave for work at 6 am every morning. And me refusing to go to school interfered with that and he almost lost his job. I couldn't stay with him. So I got taken away from my younger sister again. Without saying goodbye. They shipped me off to my first group home. Where I constantly got bullied but nobody would believe me. I begged and begged for them to change my placement. But they didn't listen until a few of the girls, who were much older and much bigger, attacked me while I was reading. I ended up in the hospital for a few days. They moved my placement to another group home which was 4 hours away from my hometown. That place didn't work out either. The woman there made us clean everything. Even her own room. She was rude to me and the rest of the girls. And when I told her about me liking girls, she hated it and sent me away. That's when I went to my last group home. I didn't like this one. I stayed in my room and cried for days. But I hadn't even given it a shot yet. So I did. And I actually liked it. The staff was nice and so were the other girls. The group home was like my second home. No, it was my second home. Before I got there, I started to act out in very bad ways. I started drinking and smoking. But when I came to that last group home, they gave me a second chance and I changed for the better. I learned that running away from my problems wasn't the answer. I learned to overcome a lot and I changed for the better. A year later I was released back to my grandmother and I have been behaving since then. In conclusion, I've learned that the only thing that sets us apart is how we are brought up and how we are raised. So, that is my life story. I choose how I write it and I will not apologize for what I write or what edits I decide to make.