My childhood was filled with a bunch of moving around and learning to accept new ideas. The biggest, and probably the most difficult idea to cope with was that I would never live with the same pair of parents. My biological parents never married, and split up right after I was born, here in Baton Rouge, La. I went to live with my mom and brand new step-father Terry in Arizona when I was six months old. Terry and my mom had another child, who happens to be my little sister Brittany.
             I only got to see my real father at Christmas time and during the summer vacation. He would fly me down to go stay with him for a few weeks at a time. Since I was so young, and living with Terry on a regular basis, I ended up thinking of Terry as more of a father figure. In my eyes, he was "dad." We used to stay up all night playing Nintendo, and just having a great time. He also taught me how to play baseball. I'll never forget his first words to me about catching the ball, "Don't be so damn afraid of the ball!!" I lived very happily with these parental figures, until my mother decided she wasn't happy living with Terry anymore.
             My mom and I moved out, and began living with a guy named Steve in an apartment complex. About a month after my mom and I moved in with Steve, Terry called and asked if he could take me to go camping with him and his relatives, whom I was close to also. My mom asked me if I wanted to go, and all I could do was smile, and nod very quickly. I hadn't seen him in such a long time, and I was living with some strange guy who I thought was going to kill me. I got everything together and ready to go for the next morning. I was so excited that night about seeing Terry, that I didn't fall asleep until one o'clock in the morning.
             Terry picked me up around noon. We stopped at Wal-Mart on the way out of town to pick up some fishing bait, tackle, and most importantly, ...