Have you ever had a dream one night and then the very next day it came true?

I have.

June of 2003 everything about my life completely changed and there was no way I could make it go back to normal, no matter how hard I tried. I stayed the night with my cousin, Stacia, and the whole day was just a normal sleepover like I had always had. Being 10 years old there was no need to worry about anything. All I had to do was play and have fun, but once we laid down on the pallet we made on the floor to go to sleep I had no idea in the world that what was about to happen was going to completely alter my life.

Sleep came easy that night until I slipped into dreamland. But the dream that filled the darkness behind my eyelids wasn't something I had expected, or even wanted to ever watch. I'll never forget the overwhelming feeling of sadness and sorrow that my dream gave me. I had been ripped away from my dad and my brothers and I had been separated. I couldn't grasp why my mind would betray me in such a way. I remember vividly waking up with tears streaming down my face and immediately waking Stacia up, telling her what happened and just continued to cry. All she even knew what to do was hold me and try to comfort me the best way she could until I fell back to sleep, hoping that I could sleep peacefully.

The next day was even more of a wreck than anything. Whenever my Uncle Jimmy brought me home there were more cars than I had ever seen in my driveway. I recognized the cars though, they were all owned by family members. I was happy for the moment thinking that it was just a harmless little visit from everyone.

I walked inside full of smiles and curiosity. Everyone was sitting down in chairs and on the sectional that we owned. My grandma patted the seat next to me so I went over and sat down and the feel of the room changed in an instant when my grandpa came out from the kitchen. He then broke the news.

He told everyone that my father was dead.

Gone.

No longer alive on this planet.

It took everyone a second for it to set. I thought he was joking for a second. I prayed that he was joking. I prayed that this was just some sick joke.. But why would he joke about something like that? Why in Heaven's name would he say something so cruel? He couldn't be that heartless could he?

But then I saw the single tear come down his cheek and I instantly broke down. Everything that I feared from my nightmare the night before came true. My heart was in my stomach and everyone around me were bawling their eyes out. I remember changing seats on the couch so I could soak someone else's t-shirt. I remember looking around and there wasn't a single dry face in the living room of my childhood home.

I was only 10 years old. One more month and I would be 11. Only a couple days and we would've celebrated my dad's birthday. And Father's Day. I had got him a tie and some Mardi Gras beads that I had hidden in my room.

My whole world was crashing around me but we all seemed to calm down after an hour of complete dread. My cousin Antone took me and my twin brother, Cody, out to get some ice cream. I can remember me using the fresh death of my father to get more ice cream than what he originally wanted to purchase from the local Dairy Queen. What a little asshole I was for doing that.

We all obviously couldn't stay in that small little house on James Street. My step mom never actually adopted us so we couldn't stay with her. I never really knew what was going on but I've heard that both sets of my grandparents fought for me in court. My mother had just recently been released from jail and she knew she couldn't possibly win. It all came down to who had more money to afford better lawyers. The parents of my father won, but I still went to my mom's parents every other weekend.

I had to move away from my best friends and start over at a brand new school for 4th grade. I hated being the "new girl" and even worse, I hated having to muster up the courage to find new friends and not go to the bathroom every time I got picked on for every little thing.

My dad's parents were old fashioned, and sometimes mean in the things they did. My grandpa was always on me about my weight, even contradicting himself at time.

"You afraid to get any food?" He would say if he didn't think I put enough on my plate.

"Wow, you must be really hungry." He would lay out if he thought that I got too much.

He put me on a diet of skim milk, and that stuff was so damn nasty. He put me in karate in hopes it would make me more active. I never went back to receive the yellow belt I had earned.

I remember one time I was sitting at the table in the living room, doing homework and I started crying because I had become upset about my dad. My grandma asked me what was wrong and I told her and she bluntly said, "Yeah, I miss him too, but you don't see me crying about it. Do your homework."

I started becoming extremely interested in the internet. It made me feel connected to other people and feel accepted by the online friends I made. I hated the thought of living in the real world and having to accept reality. Getting on the computer, plugging in my ear phones and blocking out the world helped me escape everything and act as if I was even enjoying life.

Sure, I had friends. I had people who cared about me. But nothing ever felt right. I didn't belong there. I belonged back on James Street with my daddy and 3 brothers. I belonged living just four houses away from my best friend.

I didn't particularly like living with my grandparents because I felt as if they were completely unfair about everything and I didn't like the way they treated me, but at the end of every day,they were also there for us. He gave us what we wanted. He tried his best for us. But they ended up becoming too old to take care of us and then themselves after my grandma started getting too fragile and sick.

I ended up finally moving in with my maternal grandparents and I enjoyed it there so much more. Probably because they let me get away with a lot more things and started letting me color my hair and do the things I've always wanted to be able to do and express myself.

I started becoming happier. I started being able to accept that this was my life now. I had to. I was now 13 years old and I couldn't stay in the same "poor me" mind set that I put myself in for so long. I needed to grow up and let life grab me by the arms and mold me into who I really needed to be.