By Taylor Pedro
I dedicate this book to the people that have helped me throughout my struggles.
Mike Coon
Kaitlin Greenier
Gabby Fenn
and others.
Table Of Contents.
1. Taylor Matthew Pedro
2. Ridgeview Terrace
3. Pills
4. The Box
5. Don't Tell Me How To Live My Life
6. Aunt Julie
7. What Do You Want
8. You Wouldn't Have Said That If You Really Knew Me
Chapter One.
Taylor Matthew Pedro
My full name is Taylor Matthew Pedro, and by the way, I am not Mexican. My father and mother could not agree on one name. Somehow, they ended up with Taylor Matthew. Nothing special about either one of my names, other than the fact they they both liked them. Made me feel cool. I was not named after someone special or anyone at all. To be honest, I do not think they even wanted to pick a name out for me. Still I like my name on some days, and other days I do not like it. I like it when other people say “oh that’s a cool name”. Other days, people think that my name is a 'girl' name and it triggers me. I do not like it when people call me that. Also, I do not like my name because some people think its funny to call me “Gaylor” and I wish I could punch them. But at the end of the day, I know that I am not them, and don't have to pull a low blow. Even though I do not like my name, I do not think that I could see myself as anything else. My name doesn't mean anything special. I think that it is kind o unique because most people's names mean things like “princess” or “courage” or something stupid like that. My last name, Pedro, does not suit me at all. It comes from the country of Portugal. Even though no one in my family is Portuguese, my dad's stepfather is. He adopted my father when he was still a baby. Otherwise, Pedro would not be my last name. My family and I are Italian, German, Spanish, and English. The English comes from the name Bates. While the Italian and Spanish come from the name Rosello. I actually would not mind having Rosello for a last name. Also, the German comes from the name Sanky and Mandell. My last name is made fun of often because it is Pedro. Which is a Mexican first name. It hurts me when people call me a beaner and other racist terms. In lack of a better word, I dislike my name.
Chapter Two.
Ridge View Terrace.
As of six to seven years ago, I moved from an urban, downtown neighbor in the slums of Waterbury. In order to make a better life for his family, my father moved us to Ridgeview Terrace, in the 'lovely' town of New Hartford. Where everyone knows everyone. New Hartford is where all the rich house wives go shop in canton and gossip. No joke. Some families do not like my family because we come from Waterbury. It sounds more of their personal problem because I cannot help where I am from. To tell the truth, I miss the city of Waterbury. I miss the city noise at night and the convenience of being able to walk everywhere in under ten minutes. Now, it takes 30 minutes to walk to the closest Dunkin' Donuts. Eh, oh well.
A typical day in my neighborhood is pretty boring. People going to and from work, pulling in and out of the identical development. All the houses look the same. All the people seem so happy, like what you would normally see on the movies. But if you ever walk into their house, you will know that almost no one is happy that they live in the Pine Meadow Ghetto. Its sad because I used to love living here, now I just count down the days until I am out of there. The day will come and my smile may not be so fake.
In my neighborhood you might see children playing in the field in the center of the development, or other children riding their bikes, walking their dog with their other family members. This was supposed to be a place to raise a family, but no one wants to live here. Most houses are for sale, and people are stuck in Pine Meadow Farms because they cannot afford to go anywhere else, that is not run down or smaller. Or, they are not able to sell their house.
While walking to a friends house, I am sometimes able to see kids playing, or cars speeding through the neighborhood. I could see other things, but I choose to put my head down and not talk to anyone but Gabby. She is my neighbor, and the only one I actually like to talk to. Everyone else is just aggravating to talk to, because I can care less about how their children are horrible kids, or how they don't have any money. I have my own problems to deal with, why on earth would I want to go on a guilt trip.
Sounds at night are the same as the sounds during the day. Barely any. The loudest sound is a car pulling in, or a kid screaming. However, in the early morning, its most likely to be me and Gabby. My neighborhood is pretty boring.
Chapter 3.
Pills.
Everyone has made mistakes. Everyone should have learned from their mistakes. I believe that the one real mistake that anyone can make, is not learning from their past mistakes and making the same mistakes again. I, for one, have learned from my mistakes, and have learned not to regret the choices that I have made. Also, I am a stronger person, because each mistake that I make, just helps me learn. I do not know why, it just happens. I am basically a horrible person, and some days, I cannot do anything right. Well, it may or may not be true, but that's how I feel. Oh well, I guess.
My story begins in January. When my ex-best friend Marissa, offered my Oxycontin. Not knowing the consequences. I had the three pills for a while. Little did she know, I did not take them. She gave me more, in school in March. I had five more. Three at home, five on my person. I did not have them to sell. I had them for personal use. With the eight pills that I had, and some others that were scavenged from around my house, I was going to off myself. Too much was going on, and I could not handle the harassment, and bullying from other students and family members. I just could not take it. I was done.
I told one of my friends, Alia, that I had the pills. I thought it was going to be between me and her. Guess not. She told My housemaster, Mr. Chi. He looked through my backpack and saw them. He asked me what they were for and I obviously denied everything at first. But when I figured out that either way, I was getting suspended, and most likely going to the hospital. So I told him everything, and he was in complete shock. I know why too. I have a fake smile that I wear almost everyday, and trick people into thinking I am okay, but most of the time, I am breaking apart inside. Eh, whatever. Right?
Mr. Chi ended up calling my mother, and I made her cry for the first time in a long time. My father is in Afghanistan at this time, so he has no idea. I would like to keep things that way, but my mother cannot keep her mouth shut to save her life.
The school sent me to Charlotte Hungerford Hospital in Torrington. I was then admitted into Silver Hills. And that is a story for another time.
Needless to say, Me and Marissa are not aloud to talk to each other anymore. I lost all respect from a lot of my friends because of my situation. It is no big deal right?
Chapter 4.
The Box.
On a hot boring day in the summer, Gabby and I were hanging out all day and night, because neither of us had anything special to do. A few days earlier, Gabby's parents bought her brother a ride in jeep. Like one of those barbie jeeps, but a Tonka version for boys. The box was pretty big and special I would say. Needless to say, we stole the box and brought it back to my house. What could two spontaneous people do with a box? Well, considering the fact that me and Gabby love spontaneous shenanigans, we wanted to do something unique with the box. There were many things that we could do with the box. But the best things that we could come up with was a four-legged robot. Gabby drew arm hole and two eye sockets. I carved out the holes with a razor blade from a box cutter. Surprisingly, we both fit into the box. Our arms were a bit lop-sided but that was okay. The square eye holes were at a perfect height so we can both see where we were going. We showed my mom, and she laughed and called us idiots. We then rang Gabby's doorbell, and her mother answered to find a box. She thought it was a package at first, until we stood up. She too, called us idiots. We did not want to hear that, so we just started walking. Gabby and I wanted to go get ice cream from the ice cream shoppe down the street. The shoppe was no more than one-hundred feet away from our development. We began walking. Neither of us could stop laughing because we were having such a good time. Our robot was almost there, just about to cross the street, and a car pulled behind us. Thinking it was a neighbor or our mothers, we turned around and waved. Then, we heard a siren, and saw lights. We turned back around and said “Oh Crap!” We took the box off. The police officer was very mean because he obviously had nothing better to do. He told us that more than seven people called the station complaining about us. Which was complete BS, because we were only walking down Route 44 for about seven minutes and it takes at least twenty minutes from Winsted. Mr. Officer interrogated us and asked us for our names, address, and some form of identification. Neither of us had an I.D. On us, so that did not happen. He gave us an attitude, so I mouthed off because I am the type of person to not take anything from anyone. Just who I have always been. The cop told us to take the box and fold it up. We did so accordingly. He then told us to start walking home while he drove off into our development. He went to Gabby's house first. Her mother seemed quite angry. Then, he went to my house, and my mother automatically started screaming stuff and throwing stuff at the floor. The police officer told her what happened and began to tell her that he only brought us back for “Safety Reasons”. Which that too, was crap. My mother sent me to my room, and when the cop left, she began to yell. She wasn't mad, she just called me stupid and told me to get some common sense. Not a big deal in my book, but she over-exaggerates, as always.
To this day, My mother and Gabby's mother laugh and joke about it.
Gabby and I are still looking for a replacement box, but it is not working out so well. One day, someday, we will get another box.
Chapter 5.
Don't Tell Me How To Live My Life.
One day, I do not remember where I was or what I was doing, but I do remember what was said that very day. Not gonna lie, it set me off for the rest of the day. I legit, wanted to hit someone. And I should have too, but I decided to be the bigger person, and did not. I just bottled it up. Which is not a good thing, or healthy for the mental state of mind. That is okay though because I would rather not tell everyone all my problems, because I do not believe that they need to know. Anyways, when I got home, I called Kaitlin immediately. She is my best friend and I do not know what I would do with out her. I called her because I needed someone to talk to. I was shaking, I was so anxious, angry, and feeling a lot of other mixed emotions. Kaitlin always has the best advice. (If everyone on this planet thought like Kaitlin, it would be a better place, by far) So, I called her up and eased into the situation. She already knew what was up because apparently someone told her something. Whatever that is not the point. After I finished venting, she told me the advice I did NOT really want to hear. She told me that people don't like me because of a lot of things, and if I really wanted people to like me, I would change. She was very vague, and I had no idea what she meant, but she also said something about my temper, and that kind of made me mad because that is something I cannot control, and she knows that. Therefore, I was in a bad mood for a while, and I did not know how to confront it. At first I was just like “You don't know what you are talking about”. Then I was thinking “Don't tell me how to live my life” because not a lot of people know the first thing about me. In the end, Kaitlin and I are back to being best friends, and we both understand the situation a bit better. The advice she gave me was good advice about my temper, but at the same time it was bad. It was good because it was something that I need to work on and learn how to control, but at the same time, I do not want to be to nice to people because then everybody will walk all over me. I believe that is worse than having a temper. To be quick, I obviously did not follow the advice, but I did not forget it either.
Chapter 6.
Aunt Julie.
My Aunt Julie is the female, twenty-two year old version of me. Without, her I hve no idea where I would be right now. She is my favorite family member out of all of my family members. She is the one that supports m most in my family, sticks up for me in front of everyone. Aunt Julie does not have a care in the world about who she embarrasses when she is sticking up for me, or just having a good time with me. Unfortunately, she has moved to Queens, New York. I think I almost cried that day she got on the train and left. However, I do not blame her. She had a home life that I can identify with. Julie and I can identify and connect to each other perfectly. We are like two peas in a pod, I guess you could say.
Aunt Julie is my best friend because I can connect with her in so many ways, that no one other than us can understand. I am perfectly accepting of that too. No one needs to understand our fun, or our jokes for that matter. When we are together, we are in our own little world. Neither of us can ever stop laughing. We hold each other when we cry. We laugh with each other on a good day, and understand everything that is going on in each others life when it is shared. I feel like I can trust her more than my own parents because no matter what, what I say to her, will stay between us. But if I say something to my father, or my mother, everyone in my family, and then some, will know what I do not want everyone to know.
We met the first day I was born. I do not remember, but that is okay. When I was little, I saw her everyday. Sometimes, I believe that I spent more time with her, than my own parents. I like her because she is very similar to me. We listen to the same music, and listen to pretty much the same music. We are always open to each other, and that what makes our friend ship so strong, that we can trust each other with anything.
One time, I remember we were hanging out. God knows what we were doing and what time we stumbled through the door. But we had a great time just hanging out, driving around and doing crazy things. The only thing that sucks, is that she lives so far away.
Julie and I rarely talk anymore, and I really do miss that. I can honestly say that if she tried talking to me, I would be so happy. More happy than I have ever been in a very long time. I can see why we haven't talked too. Neither of us have the time to sit down on the computer and talk on Facebook, or AIM. Also, she works ALL the time, so it is kind of hard to get a hold of her. I wish that we could rebuild our friendship. And when we do, it won't take much.
Chapter 7.
What Do You Want?
Recently, my mother asked me what I wanted out of life. I was completely dumbfounded. I had no idea how to respond to that question, or what to even say. I did not know what I want out of life. Most likely because I am in a state of mind, that I don't even care anymore. It is okay though because one day I will figure it out.
I want to find love. It is kind of hard to find because I do not believe that love exists. I have been hurt emotionally, and used by so many people that all I can say that any relationship that I had, was only lust. However, when I see old people, still holding hands and still going on dates, being “oh so romantic,” it really does give me hope that one day, I will find love. Within somewhere, I will find love.
I want to be successful. What do I mean by that? Nothing special to be exact. I would just want to finish high school and I would be completely satisfied with that. I have something to look forward to right?
I also want to be successful in another way. I was to be able to make a difference in someone's life. Be able to be a hero to someone. I want someone to be able to look up to me as something more than a junkie. (I got named that because of a lot of my past history, none with drugs, just because of my hospitalization, and the clothes that I wear). I believe that being successful does not have anything to do with the car you drive, or the house that you live in. I believe it has to do with the amount of impact you put into at least one persons life. If you could not change someone for the better, or help someone with the simplest of tasks, but you have twenty-two million dollar paycheck, your a bit greedy. However, that is only my opinion.
Chapter 8.
You Wouldn't Have Said That If You Really Knew Me.
A lot of people they think that they know the true me. Well, that isn't so true. A lot of people don't know the first thing about me. And that's what I want to change. I have been bullied and harassed, and picked on, a faught with, all of my life. And I strongly believe that I did not do anything to provoke a fist-fight, or ask to be bullied on a daily basis. I am who I am, and no one is going to change that. I do not care if you are the president of the united states, or the hobo in torrington. I will not change, if I do not want to change.
If you really knew me, you would know that I have not had the teenage dream life. I have purchased each and every item of clothing that I own, because sometimes, my own parents do not support me.
If you really knew me, you would know that I do not smoke for social reasons. I smoke because of stress, and to keep me calm in high stress points.
If you really knew me, you would know that I am no poseur. I do not want to be like anyone else, and I can honestly say, my friends have no influence on who I am. I do things for me. I help others too, but when I do something for me, its because I want to, or I need to.
If you really knew me, you would know that I have a list of fears. Not proffesionally diagnosed, but I am deathly afraid of a lot of things. Those fears are:
- Agraphobia - Fear of sexual abuse.
- Autophobia - Fear of being alone or of oneself
- Cleisiophobia - Fear of being locked in an enclosed place.
- Coulrophobia - Fear of clowns
- Dementophobia - Fear of insanity
- Nyctophobia - Fear of the dark or of the night.
- Philophobia - Fear of falling in love
- futurophobia – fear of the future.
