I need a name for this...

PART 2 INTRO

You never ask for thing like this to happen to you. I don't even remember when it happened to me, but as I was reading the obituary portion of the morning paper I could barely recall my 10th birthday when my uncle sat me down and told me what happened to my parents. He told me how my mother was actually dead hours before I was born, he told me how my father was even dead before that and my uncle never got to actually meet him, he told me how I was declared dead when my mother crashed her little '79 station wagon into an 18 wheeler. He also told me how the doctors felt me kick inside of my mother and performed and emergency C-Section when I wasn't even due for two more months. I didn't cry when he told me, I didn't know what to feel. Throughout my life, I've seen how attached a child is to their parents, but the only relationship I had similar to a parent and their child was my relationship with my single uncle, who was only 23 when he took me in.

When people tell me how sorry they felt for me, I really didn't know how to reply. If I told them I didn't really care, which was the truth, they would think I was some mentally disturbed child leaning on psychotic so I just nodded at them and let them console me in whatever way they felt they had to to make me feel "better". But then again, I never asked for this to happen to me, but Rachel wanted something like this, and at the time... I thought she was joking... now...

I knew better.