I realized that in my late-teenage years, I could scarcely remember anything before the age of 13. That was the year of my car accident, and was as is if I'd suffered a sort of amnesia that, unfortunately, left me with only a few depressing glimpses at my history. I remembered being in a poor New York apartment, and watching my mother scream at an uncle of mine. I remember being chased by schoolmates throwing stones, yelling fat jokes at me as I ran home crying. I remember being whipped with a belt for stealing a pen. And I remembered being yelled at for losing a spelling bee.

That was also the year I began to lose control and change.

>>>>