My father and I did not get along well because of my decisions and behaviors, and so I ran away from home. I stayed on the streets and on couches with my new friends, and school was like a distant memory. After some time passed, I came home, and the next school year started. I was in 9th grade again, but I attended even less frequently. My father and I couldn’t get along, and so I was sent back to live with my mother.
By now, my mother moved to Texas because of the military. So I had a new school, and again, new people to meet. This constant state of moving was the biggest common theme in my life. I started into the 9th grade again, but only as a social outlet. I was rude to teachers, and I acted out in class. Texas was different, because when I would skip classes, the law could get involved. So when I skipped school, I learned how to run from the police.
I quickly found new drug friends here. We would make a sport of running from the police. Finding entertaining ways to evade them. Texas was a career criminal training ground. My school sessions became less and less frequent. The reason, was that an officer would seek me out soon after I showed up. So I ran from them, as I had become so good at. I got suspended more times than I could count. I’ve gotten expelled. And the deeper in trouble with the law I had become, the less I went to school. So finally, as school had become a “risk” to me, I completely quit going.
I was finished with my education, I was running from the law, and so to keep from going to jail for a long time, I left Texas and lived my life out on the streets, roaming the avenues of San Francisco. No communication to my family. I just picked up and left. For years without a word.