My mother was a child herself, just turning six-teen when giving birth to me. The complications of development starting even before my first breath. My mother Hailey, and my father Greg, were a bad combination. Hailey, being fifteen and Greg being twenty-three. Greg had a good heart though and my mother was already a pathological liar, never admitting to her real age until it was too late to go back. My grandmother Laura and my grandfather Rich, were both excited and upset upon the announcement of Hailey's pregnancy. Laura, wanting what's best for everyone, threatened Greg often with two options: pay child support, or face the law. But like I said, he had a good heart. Greg, though a bit reluctant to pay child support for a bastard who possibly wasn't his, did his best for me. Of course, not after demanding a DNA test for his record and peace of mind. As my mother would say, "You are 99.996% his child!". I scoffed often at that response, it was fair to say that I was only .004% hers, that percentage being all aesthetic. Another thing I often found humorous, was that Hailey often complained about having to do the test, exclaiming that Greg had shown up hours after my birth, covered in paint and refusing to hold me. Ah, yes, a working man with fears of the 'woman' who had already lied to him, was yet again, lying. Thus, the beginning of my troubles.
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