Where do i start. Well my name is Jesse Montana Castillo. I have a 20 year old brother and an 11 year old sister. Also my uncle and grandfather live with my family. I took up drumming at the age of 8 and i am now 15. Now, my Url is a series of unfortunate events and it tells a story. I am an amateur author, sangfroid by my years, and embellished in books for matters that will be addressed later. First i must note that there is a large event that happened in early in my life that i cannot speak of for the sake of my family’s dignity. But at a young age i already had experienced something truly painful. But ill skip to what i can tell you. Let’s start at my hell years. Elementary school, where young minds prosper grow or shrink into the adolescents they will be. This is where i found my future, and i lost my path. My dad since my birth worked at coca cola as a truck driver. But it was a much harsher job than expected. And his dry and bloody hands told the story. He brought income. And that’s what he knew how to do. Both my parents didn’t have much more than a high school degree so, it was hard, for all of us. But it was my mom’s job, which she acquired when i was in third grade, that impacted me. She was so happy, two incomes. We could finally have things. We had been moving house to house, and finally settled down and decided to buy a small beat up house and go from there. My brother was never the smartest, hell. To be honest he isn’t very smart at all. And he doesn’t know how to take care of himself. He’s been in jail; he’s stolen, been jumped, and many convoluted things. And i had to explain to my litter sister every time, when he was going or how he got there.So in the end, i had to be the eldest and i had to take care of my family. My sister especially. So back to elementary. After my mom acquired a job at my school things turned. I was excluded and it wasn’t easy. These kids, all of them, so unkind. I used to be far overweight, and sadly i knew it too. But as a boy what was i to do? Working out doesn’t cross an elementary schoolers mind. And daily i used to receive verbal abuse and not say anything. What was i to say anyway? As a young schoolboy, already broken, i believed every word. Even being a straight A student. Literally, straight A’s, i had no room for error, i wanted to get out of here. And i was basically exiled, and i read during recess because that was the only thing worth doing by myself. And i fell in love with books. And i almost forgot. It wasn’t just verbal abuse. There were four boys, i still remember their faces. They decided it would be fun, or whatever excuse they had, to pick on me. So they did, and they used to physically beat me. But now thinking back on it, they were smart boys. They used to tell me to keep quiet, and they had so many reasons why i should. So i did. And they used to hit me where i had clothing. Why? Can you see bruises with a shirt over? So there wasn’t a way i could show someone without actually trying to. This occurred 3-4 times a week. And i started to question my purpose. At the age of nine. I already wanted to die. As i said before, friends weren’t a factor, and i was an outstanding student. Until i was let into the GATE (Gifted And Talented Education) program. That’s where i met Juan, who was a grade above me. For 45 minutes of my day i was sent to another classroom for gate. And it was other scholars like me. And Juan was one of many. But the thing about him was, he seemed as if he didn’t know of my mother, or my weight. I was human to him. I was Jesse. And he became sort of a role model. And basically not having a brother he became mine in a way. And i used to follow him at recess. And i used to sit next to him for the 45 minutes. And he would answer my questions and he would talk about girls out of my league and i would nod as if i had a chance. And that was it. I would follow him afterchool while he was on his bike riding home every day, and there was one part of the ride where we would part ways for i lived the opposite direction and he lived the other. And i would see him the next day. There was a day, where as normal i was beaten but i had GATE to look forward too. And that was fun, as it always was, and it was time to go home. So Juan set on his bike and we traveled. We met at the departing spot and i waved goodbye and he waved with one hand. His bright red bike i remember so sullenly. I turned and paced home… two steps in i heard a scream and a crash. Just by the scream i recognized so quickly i knew it… Juan was dead. And i turned and saw the man. Who saw me. And i stood petrified, not a sound emitted, because i thought i was next. But no, insult to injury, the man got out, walked to the front bumper, pulled his sleeve and wiped the blood off. Sliding back into his car… I ran home. Yes, i RAN home. I sat in my room, crying for the death of my brother. And my parents were not home yet. The very next day, after everyone had found out, i knew school would never be the same. A group of four therapists walked into my GATE classroom, and told what they knew… less than what i knew. But they didn’t know i did. Afterwords there was silence but no crying. I realized i was the closest to him and no one was close enough to believe it was truly tragic. And simply by sight, the men and women started pulling children out of the room. Even by the slightest hint out trauma. And they hadn’t pulled me out. I had not cried a single tear, because i shed them all the day before. Then a man, whom i saw looking at me for a while, came over. Everyone knew who Juan was to me, so everyone watched and waited, listened. “Did you know Juan ________?” At that moment i bursted into tears. They led me out the classroom. And i was sent to therapy for two week because that was all they could do. That was the start and end of my childhood. And the rest of my life was spend trying to get back up. Now i could tell you about how my bestfriend stole the girl or how i would get in trouble for stupid things but i know everyone goes through that. And not that it makes those thing mean less to me, just, i’m not going to say they were the main things. Because if i were to pick everything, i wouldn’t be here today. I will tell you how i tried to fix what i though was broken. In seventh grade i saw a new opportunity. A new start. And i took the opportunity and ran with it. But that’s where it stated getting serious. My academics were still great. And i still read and wrote. But i stopped eating. Once every two days i would. And that to this day hasn’t stopped. And i take the lunch money my parents give me, because i don’t want they to ask why i don’t need it. And to be honest, it worked. But i don’t think ill ever be satisfied with myself. And i still do it… But let’s move on. Well, from what you’ve already read, i have some abandonment issues. And that’s part of it. Ever since the accident i haven’t been able to have two weeks worth of good night sleeps. And i wake up screaming. And it’s always a dream about Juan, how i can’t move and i actually watch him get hit… It really bothers me when people say “lol i can’t sleep” and things of that matter. Because they don’t know what it’s like to truly be able to not sleep. And it angers the fuck out of me. But again i don’t say anything. But, ever since October 26, 2012, (yes i remember the date as if it was yesterday…), it’s been a girl, not Juan. And i know exactly who it is… My first real best friend, Alex M. I loved her so so so so much. And i would do anything for her. I met her through my friend Ruben, who liked her before i even knew her. So, haha, i was his wingman. That’s what friends do… In the end it didn’t work out, mostly because he didn’t make the effort. But i gained a best friend through it. But i don’t regret it, because i’d do it all over again. I’d love another minute. Just one… But like most things in my life, it had to burn. I did like alex. To be honest i did. But i never really expected to go anywhere with her. I knew she was beautiful, but i fell in love with the way she talked to me, the way she laughed. And everything you could imagine. I really really liked her. But i didn’t want to mess anything up. So i never said a word. And i watched her go through multiple boyfriends. And i saw her get her heart broken over and over. And i would fix her beautiful little heart and set her off to find someone else. Oh how i loved her. Then one day on the phone after one of her breakups she told me she loved me, really loved me. And i was the happiest man on this planet i was sure of it. But maybe that was just a phase, because maybe a little more than a couple weeks after she found someone else. And i didn’t say a word. But she now knew my feelings. Ouch. His name was Omar. And i loved that man. He made my bestfriend the happiest girl on earth, something i could never ever do. And till this day he still does. I can’t ever thank him enough. Because aren’t i supposed to be happy for her? Aren’t I? On October 26, 2012 there was a halloween festival at her school, so i went. I like all of her friends, and i enjoyed spending time with her. I was a fun day, and i enjoyed every minute. Sadly i had to leave early. And i was getting picked up at nine. So around 8:30 her friend left us alone. )They used to always do that, everytime we hung out, because they know i like talking to her, just us, you know? So we went to a secluded place, because her head hurt from the music playing all day. And she asked me why i was being so weird. In the sweetest tone i can imagine. And i was, i was being weird. Only because everytime i see her i know i love her, and i never wanted anything else but her. So i said i wasn’t and i was fine. But she insisted. And she insisted. Over and over again. So i told her. I told her how everytime i see her i realize how much i love her. And i told her how everytime i think i have a chance i don’t. And i told her i’m happy for her but it hurts at the same time. And in that moment i cried. And i had never cried in front of anyone before. Let alone her. And it was silent for minutes, what seemed like forever. I was still crying, because i knew i messed up. Then she whispered in my ear, ” I love you okay.” And i swear to god i loved her even more. She then broke me, when she told me she will never love me more than a friend. And i cried even harder. She kissed me on the cheek. And i continued. And she did it one more time. I stood up. And i left in tears. I wanted to leave. I wanted to die once again. I thought that conversation would be private, and i would never, we would never speak of it again. But the next day, or that night , i don’t know. She told her boyfriend everything. Actually probably not everything. Think about it, if she was telling her boyfriend would she tell him she kissed ME on the cheek, or SHE was the one who asked over and over what i was thinking about? I didn’t think so. And that’s how i ended up here. He told her to not talk to me. She sent me a message on tumblr.. I still have them. So she did as he said without question. She didn’t even fight for me when i earlier that year broke up with my first girlfriend for her, because my ex said harmful things about Alex. But no. I wasn’t worth it. And once again i was alone. Was i not worth fighting for? So there i was, worthless, getting skinnier, dying. And even today i would take her back. I would take it all back. This is my story. And I wish I could say I was finished. My other bestfriend attempted suicide about a month and a half ago. She left an entire page only for me. Telling me how much she loved me. She survived. But I have not been able to speak to her since. She was sent to New York. (I live in California.) I miss her dearly. I have no one.