no...this is not a weak "T.I. versus TIP" phase that every unoriginal weak minded teen went through when he did. this is an actual battle for my soul between two bodies with the same soul of darkness and hatred. my name is Tarrance Bernard Foster 2nd. so there was a previous version of me. the original. the first of two failures. my father.
father...
he deserves not such a title, so out of spite we will call him everything but.
this man almost single handily ruined my life. he turned me into the cold hearted being that i am. all it took was one day, Christmas, to turn me against the world. that one day confused me so horribly that all i could be was angry, once i had enough strength to stop crying. and still i could not comprehend what had occurred. now that i am fully competent of what transpired that day and in all of my other run-ins with bitch of a man i can never forgive him. only hate remains where admiration used to dwell. yes, i hate Tarrance Bernard Foster Senior.
the worst Christmas ever...a story for another time my friends.
the purpose of this entry is to explain how successfully i had evaded this man. ignored calls, disregarded messages, burned letters. i did everything in my power to run from him. he who embodies pain. i had won. calls stopped, messages ceased, letters no longer came.
but today, july fourth, two thousand and eight, my birthday, the day i knew would go wrong before it came, he calls. of course i could have ignored it...and i would have...if he called MY phone. to my dismay he isn't as stupid as i would like to think. he called my mother and spoke with her for a while. meanwhile, i lay in my bed wanting to be sleep. when my mother barges in my room holding the phone. i knew it was someone wanting to wish me happy birthday, but when asked she wouldnt tell me who. i was trapped.
"Hello?"
"Hey Boy! you know who you talkin to??"
of course i did and no longer was i sleepy. i was infuriated. at my mother for giving me the damn phone and him for even remembering that i was his son. he told me to call him later, i wont.
after a hour or so, i was over it. until i went downstairs for breakfast...when i heard the worse news of the century.
worse than knowing that my family will be going to see a shrink...worse than knowing that my cousin and my aunt are moving in with us.
i found out that he would be moving to the same city...
after years of having escaped his grasp...he would be here...but this town aint big enough for two Tarrances.
my worst fear is coming to pass...and needless to say im not happy about it.
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