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“You are NOT getting a tattoo and that’s final!” We were standing in the living room, yelling at each other, again. This had been a common occurrence lately. It has become so frequent that it is hard to remember the moments when we aren’t fighting about…SOMETHING.

“That’s not fair! Everyone else is getting them!” I yelled.

“And, if everyone else decided it was cool to fly to Alaska so they could run around naked in the snow before screwing a seal, would you do that too?” he questioned me, at the top of his lungs while flinging his arms in the air. I just rolled my eyes. Leave it to him, to come up with an analogy that messed up!

“Why can’t a get a tattoo? You’ve got tattoos and AJ is covered in them!”

“Neither of us are FIFTEEN!” We both turned toward the front door that we heard opening.

“I came at a bad time, didn’t I? I could hear you two squabbling as soon as I got out of my truck,” AJ raised his eyebrows. He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed as he looked from me, to my guardian, then back to me.

“Yeah. Baylee, here, wants to get a fucking tattoo.”

“Tell him it’s no big deal,” I begged AJ. “After all, you have them. Wouldn’t it be hypocritical to tell me ‘no’? Just like you guys swearing and then telling me that I can’t.” I asked in a pleading manner.

“He’s right, Baylee. You can’t get one now. And, technically, it isn’t hypocritical because neither of us had any tattoos at your age.” AJ put his arm around me and squeezed my shoulder.

“Plus, I can fucking cuss as much as I damn well please because I…am…an…ADULT! When you are an adult, you can do whatever your heart desires. Cuss all day long, if you want! Cover your body in tattoos from head to toe, for all I care. I don’t give a shit, but, you have to wait until you are an adult…just like EVERYONE else!”

“This is so not fair! I HATE YOU!” I screamed in my guardian’s face.

“Great, I’m thrilled. But if you don’t get that attitude under control, then you will be hating me all weekend long…IN YOUR ROOM, instead of going to that concert. You are not getting a tattoo. End…of…discussion!” He spat back.

“You are unbelievable! How can you do this to me? If you don’t want me then send me to my Grandma and Grandpa’s to live,” I scowled before storming up the stairs to my room.

“See? I TOLD you guys from the beginning that I couldn’t do this!” I heard him say to AJ, as I reached the top of the stairs.

“He’s a teenager, man. They go through these stages.” AJ chuckled.

Okay, I guess I better clue you in, huh? My name is Baylee Thomas Wylee Littrell, and I just turned 15 years old. The man downstairs that I was arguing with is my guardian…not my father. My parents died just before my 9th birthday.

It was a really bad car accident that took my parents away from me. My dad died instantly, on the scene, but my mom hung on for quite a while. She was on life support but, from what I’m told, she was brain dead. After 6 months on life support, with no improvement, the family decided that it was time to let her go.

I spent every day in that room, talking to her. Everyone told me that God would be the one to decide if she was going to stay with me or go to heaven with dad. When it came time to ‘pull the plug’ my Grandma L. told me that God must want her with them in heaven because she wasn’t getting any better. Saying goodbye to my mother was horrible but at least I GOT to say goodbye. I don’t know if she could really hear me, but I never even got the chance with dad.

At such a young age, I didn’t really even completely understand what was going on. Then, I had to move in with my new guardian. I had been in the care of my Grandparents until mom died. But, once she was gone, their will went into affect. That was when I found out where I would be living. Evidently, my parents had put together a will when I was born and kept it, pretty well, updated.

I got to keep quite a bit of my parent’s stuff and all their money went into bank accounts for me. My guardian divided it up…over half of it went into a college fund. The rest, according to my parent’s will, was/is to be spent on me for things I need or want, within reason, of course. It’s just too bad that HE gets to decide what is ‘within reason’.

I don’t REALLY hate him. We always got along when I was younger. Honestly, I love the guy but he still doesn’t compare to the real thing. Sometimes I just wish I could have my parents back. I don’t know why I get to upset and say such mean things to him, now. We hardly ever get along anymore and I’m not even, entirely, sure why.

So here it is…life according to me, Baylee Littrell.