Chapter 2 - My Family

My Family


Let's start off with the family.

My mom and my dad were separated when I was two years old. I was born a twin... But, we were only connected by my mom's DNA. She cheated on my dad the night after they slept together. If I remember correctly, the man's name was Michael Masterson. Wyatt Masterson is my Fraternal-half twin brother. When I learned the truth about my brother's paternity and my mother's infidelity ... I couldn't bring myself to forgive either of them. For the longest time I blamed Wyatt.. He was the reminder of why my Dad couldn't stay in a stable relationship after-wards. I knew my mom was no angel. But that was my mom. I could hate her actions, but never completely hate her. Wyatt on the other hand. Well.. Let's just say he's an idiot.

My dad didn't see several women while I was growing up...

He's a very respectable man: a graduate from Oxford. The kind of man that I really could look up to, and was proud to call him my dad. Even though he knew it was going to be difficult, he raised me while doing online college courses. My mom lost out on a good man, she and Michael separated when me and Wyatt were five years old. Michael didn't want to deal with raising a kid, so he took off to another state. I was born in Falls Creek, Connecticut and graduated at Brooklyn High School. My dad and I haven't moved once. He didn't want me to go through the stress of moving and switching schools. I won't lie... Sometimes I wish that we did move.

But, I can't say that I regret everything that happened.

If I did, that would mean that I'm not happy with the way I turned out. There's room for improvement.

For a while, my dad's lived off the family inheritance. When my grandmother died, she left our family with a lot of money. Well, my dad and I got all of it. My grandmother discovered, a week before she died, that my grandfather was cheating on her for a younger woman.

I never thought I'd call my grandfather a pedophile. But, the girl was willing to date an old man. While they were seeing each other, the girl just hit the ripe age of eighteen. My grandfather is sixty-seven. It's times like these, I have to wonder: What kind of crack-cocaine is this world on'

Great, now I'm sounding like my brother.

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