after that, he punched my right temporal lobe causing my first bleed and 3 hairline fractures on my skull. In public. His last words to me were "I am going to kill you." In the car my brothers were crying, my mom driving, my father saying "I have the right to kill what I made.

He was forced from the house. I never saw him again. I was 13 and hyper-vigilant, so my mother felt I needed help. She sent me to the first Teen EST in New York. A cult. With a murderer as its leader. I couldn't sleep or eat, she got so angry she put me in the basement.

She picked up where he left off, telling me I was ugly, worthless, she never wanted me, I was a burden and a horrible bad child. By 15 I was abandoned to the streets of Newark, NJ. So what do you think happens to 15 year olds who are living on the street in dead winter?

I was forced into prostitution and beaten regularly. Then two men, Greg and Glenn Nochenson from Livingston (there's your white privilge) came to "save" me. They were famous for killing their father over an argument to declaw a cat (they were on PCP actually). They traded me to

their cousin, Richard, for half a kilo of cocaine. From 15-17. I was shackled to a bed in a basement and used as a sex toy for grown men. Pedophiles. Greg came up for a visit and raped me brutally. Richard, who was not violent, let me go to a friend. I stayed with her for a week.

Then I returned to my home town and lived in friends houses until my mother finally said okay, come home. I came home. Two weeks later she found out her Mother was dying of Hodgkin's Lymphoma. She was incapable of dealing with it, preferring to show off her Ph.D. and new car.

She sent me to care for my gran at 17. I lived in my grandmother's house and cared for her until she died. My mother and her creep came out to Tucson and packed up the house, leaving me again to the streets. I stayed with friends, got a job, and got myself back into school.

I never wanted to rant like that. But deny any human a right to their identity? Fascism.