Alright well I'm not too sure where to begin. Hmmm. Maybe from my childhood that would be a start and help you to understand a lot more for when I write the next few chapters of my life.

So to start off  on November 11, 1996, my mother gave birth to me in the warm and cozy confines of a hospital. Here's the catch she already had two children, that would be my older sister and older brother. I wasn't really planned and kind of just happened and thank goodness my mother didn't believe in abortion, anyways the only way she could properly give birth to me was by drinking and so that she did, my mother gave birth to me while she was drunk, hence why my name is Isha and spelt in a "unique"way.

Growing  up, I didn't have the best life I mean our older sister was put up for foster care and my brother and I had to live growing up in an apartment which was way too small for a family of three plus I forgot to mention, no father. Now about him there is NO sappy sad story, he simply walked out when we needed him most.

Now back to the main point, after finally growing up to around four yearsold, I was the resident"cutie" I still do not see it even though people tell this all the time, I still prefer to ignore the comment.

I had garnered the attention any young child could've wanted to have, and of course that means the older women, which in turn meant cookies that I didn't have to pay for!

I know it sounds lame, but really we all have to admit that those cookies we were given were the most delicious things any child could taste. I'm really good at getting off topic, but anyways so I was a young kid, while living in the apartment, I met an older woman by the name of  Simone, who I would call Auntie Simone, even till this day.

Auntie  Simone was a one of a kind type of character, she was the type of woman who would often tell me "Let's go rob a bank and run around   for the cops!" Yeah, she was definetly a keeper she ended up becoming a great part of my life. 

This was an old woman who liked to smoke and cook, but who had also lost her husband a grat deal ago, way before I was born. I think. But anyways, she had alwaysloved kids, never had any to call her own, but she would always gladly welcome any that said hi to her, I remember always going over down the hallway of the aprtments just to see her, and bug her while we would watch reruns of 'Murder She Wrote'. Oh lord could only let you guess how much she just loved that show. We would always just sit on her couch, her in her chair, a small bowl of m&m's on the table with a lamp, and watch the episodes trying to guess who was guilty, smoke would fill the air, but didn't affect me too much, due to the fact that she bought an air purifier when she found out I was allergic to the smoke.

Everday, even after school, was spent like this, I would be with my Auntie Simone in her smaller apartment, just enjoying life the way I knew she was.

Now as they say, all good things must come to an end. That would mean the times where I could spend my time with my Auntie Simone, she hasd eventually gotten very sick, and therefore by the time I was around eight, had been in and out of the hospital on numerous accounts. For a child I still wasn't able to really understand what was going on, so I would always be the exact same way that I was before, I couldn't understand that her time to reunite with her deceased husband Pete, was coming near. Nonetheless, everday I would continue to do the same activities, day in and day out, and she would continue to be my favorite Aunite Simone, the one I would always say I couldn't live without, she would always tell me that even at her old age, she felt like I was the child she never got the chance to have, okay, well she didn't say that, but she sure made me know it. And for that I was happy to bring her a sense of comfort, especially when she would be my escape from reality, which wasn't as nice as those days spent together and away from the things that would make me upset. 

However, it was a cold and semi wintery night, and it was a few days before my 9th birthday, and Auntie Simone was sick and in bed, she had gone through pneumonia a few times, and everyone but myself could see her days winding down to an end. I had visited her with my mother while she was on her bed rest, the moment she saw me she would put up a face infront of me so that I wouldn't feel upset about losing my precious Auntie, she would always act strong infront of me to assure me that she would be 'okay'. Now on this particuler night, Auntie Simone had spoken to me, when she saw me the only thing she had said was.

"I will live to see your 9th birthday."

She kept her promise, one day after my 9th birthday, I was on my way to go see my favorite Aunit Simone, and when I knocked on the door I can't remember who, but someone told me that she had passed and would be taken away by God.

For some reason even though I wanted to, I couldn't really cry, I didn't understand, I think it must have been because her few words to me on the nights before my birthday were her way of saying "Farewell" to me, and I understood that. So we held a funeral in her name, and it was hed at a chapel with prayers and holy water, which to be honest I thought was a water fountain and drank. I didn't bawl my eyes out, but I did however shed a tear for my Auntie Simone's departure. 

Life without my Aunite Simone, was weird. I was still hoping that she would just walk out of nowhere and yell at me to come and watch murder she wrote. I can remember one week after the funeral, in my delirious and denying young state, I walked up to her apartment door, and knocked on it, waiting for her to open up and tell me to come in, but it never came that sweet and funny voice, it never would.

Well hey everyone, this is a little insight, it's not all that's left because there is a lot, but anyways comment anything you want or need to say/ask and I'll respond as quickly as possible.

I'll update soon.