My Life Story
Lonnie Brown

The year was 1985. I was 9 years old, and I was livin' with my grandmother.

At the time, my mother went back to prison for armed robbery and possession. My grandmother, who to me was my guardian angel, who I loved with all my heart, any time I was in trouble and was gonna get a whooping from my mother—which was no joke—I would tuck tail and run to my grandmother's house. She lived in the same projects, a few doors down from my mother's, and she would save me. If my mother would whoop me, my grandmother would smack her. Everyone in the family feared Big Momma. She was really no joke, and I was her baby.

My grandmother got me my first bike, taught me how to ride it. She took me down to the pier, taught me how to fish and crabbing, and she would make her famous seafood gumbo. My grandmother was not only my grandmother, she was also my mother, my father, and my best friend.

I remember the last night me and my grandmother spent together like it was yesterday. We sat on her bed, and ate candy and ice cream together. Her smile could light up any room. She told me she loved me more tan the world, and that I was her baby and always will be.

I remember waking up and jumping out of bed, telling Grandma to get up. I went into the kitchen and got two bowls, two spoons, cereal and milk so me and Grandma could eat a bowl like we did every morning. I went back into the bedroom and walked over to my grandmother's side of the bed, telling her it was time to eat. I gave her a kiss, and she was cold. I pulled her covers back, I shook her, I told her I loved her and to please get up.

At that time, my heart dropped and I stepped back. I cried. I realized that my grandmother would never wake up again and that we would never do the things we did together again.

I then went to live with my great aunt and later found out that my grandma and my great aunt (her sister) went to the doctors. They told her she will die soon from cancer. That was five days before she did. That same day, her and my great aunt went out to Macy's, and she bought me a new BMX bike. She told my great aunt to give it to me when she passes, and also told her to take me in and give me a good life. My great aunt said she would and that if she should get me right now. My grandma said she ain't gone yet and could not sleep without her baby next to her at night.

At this young age, I had already lost my best friend who died from a bullet that was not meant for him. I had no father, who raped my mother and led to me being conceived, and did not want anything to do with me. I lost my mother to prison due to her problems and drug use. I lost my grandma to cancer. Everything I loved and needed was taken from me, and it was painful. I felt lost.

I turned to the streets, my brothers, cousins, and homeboys. All I wanted was to be like my big brothers, cousins, and homeboys. The streets was my family and school of training. I got courted into my gang (jumped in by six other members for two minutes) the Crips. I learned how to sell crack cocaine and started doing other criminal acts with my new family. I loved getting into fights with rival gang members, which caused me to get kicked out of nine schools. I started smoking weed and drinking. My community was all drug and gang invested, and they were my family now.

Has anyone went through this in their life at this age?
Have any of you ever gave up hope and was lost in pain at this age?
Has anyone ever turned to the wrong kind of people to find love and be accepted?

If you can relate to this or can even understand this, hit me back on my blog 'cause I would like to hear back from you.

To the next chapter of my life. Be continued.