I am starting to write a new book, and well its no where near anything, i just wanted to start throwing some stuff out there, not quite sure what im gonna do with the beginning, but this is a autobiography, its the story of my life, full of drama, tears, boys, death, and its definitely a clincher. I will keep updating so please keep reading. My hopes is that some of you will get hooked and wonder whats gonna happen next so let me know what u think !!!!!!!!!! PLEASE. I would appreciate it so much, but reemember its not even corrected or anything so dont tell me about errors thanks. :D


part one.

“Today is the first day of the rest of your life,” I will never forget those terrifying words I heard the very last day I would walk the halls of Basic High School. Where did the time seem to go? Time, something that had passed by me and everyone so rapidly, we nearly could breathe without the clock ticking loudly in our ears. It just seemed to be another day added to the many I had spent in those walls, but it wasn’t. It was the very end, the beginning of the end. I was handed my checkout slip a few days before to get signed by all my teachers. I chose to wait to the very last day because I knew it was going to be a hard day. As I walked the halls to every single class I had taken that year, I walk by and saw memories in every hall, making me stop and taking it all in one last time. Student Council, Homecoming Court, Honors classes, Football games, Dances, and friends that I had made all four years were going to be gone soon. Everything I had ever known was about to vanish within my eyes. As the last bell rang, the doors fling open from every where in sight and hundreds of students flee cheering that Summer was finally here. Within minutes the hallways were clear and nothing but memories, yearbooks, and pictures are left. A happy day was also a very depressing day, as it reminded me that for once I was leaving something instead of it leaving me. I had waited the past four years to move on and grow up but when I was finally faced with it, I wished so hard I could stay and embrace it all just once last time.
Graduation Day came so fast like a storm from the east blew in. My best friend Lindsey picked me up, and we drove there together with her family. Dressed in blue potatoe sacks, we were nervous and excited for this day we had waited for what seemed like an eternity. The drive there was long, but that ride was one I will never forget. I sat and looked out the window, as other cars passed us so did my memories of the past 18 years like pages in a photo album. My life had not been an easy one, but whos isn’t. Everyone is faced with obstacles and challenges some worse and some better. Everyone has a story and everyone has a lesson to share., and well…here is my story…..
I was born on april 26th, 1989, my birth certificate reads Mother, Sandra Sandoval, but there is an absense in the space my father’s name should be, much the next 18 years, an absent father however, my grandfather was there in replace of my father so I never knew the difference. He was my father, better than a mother or father put together . He taught me everything I needed to know, more than any school book could teach me. He taught me common sense, life’s simple challenges and taught me how to overcome anything. it was his wisdom and courage that got me through everything growing up. “Hey papa, how are you feeling today?” I would wake up everyday and run to his room to ask him this question. When I was 5 he was diagnosed with Stomach Cancer which also was told to be terminal. He was given 6 months to live and was sent on his way. He chose to spend his last few months at home with us instead of the usual “other options” such as Chemotherepy and radiation. He didn’t want to be too weak to spend the little time he did have left sleeping and not relinquishing it with the ones he loved the most. I was only 5 years old, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew when I heard that six letter word cancer, that It was bad, really bad and it was attacking him not only on the inside but It was attacking his heart on the outside because I could see it within his very eyes.I will never forget the day that we learned of his illness, it seems as if it was yesterday but in a hazy way. I was sitting in a hotel room in Loma Linda, California with my mom and my uncle, when my mom got the phone call and I heard her say cancer out loud and I simply shouted “Cancer?!” We had gone to see him right after that in the hospital. He had surgery and they got most of the cancer out but not all of it. I remember walking up to him, and my uncle lifting me up to see him. I was so happy to see him but confused at the same time. Imagine, this little five year old girl, hair pinned back, dress on with matching shoes, so young and full of life, staring death right in the face. We went home, and just waited. I spent every moment possible with him and in his room. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months and soon enough he was getting worse. My mom would always tell me “Be prepared, hes getting worse….” I was so tired of hearing these words when I was trying so hard to be positive and happy. Months turned into a year and slowly it was looking up. He would go to the doctors office and the doctor would make jokes with him, “Your still here?!” I prayed everyday before I went to sleep, and I begged god at times to not take him away from me. I was so young and I understood everything that was being thrown at me, I just didn’t want to face loosing him. 6 years passed and he was still there, watching me grow every step of the way. Every night before I went to sleep I would walk up to his bed side and say “I love you grandpa, and I will see you tomorrow morning.” I wouldn’t go a night without saying that especially the I will see u tomorrow morning part. I felt it was good luck and I didn’t want to jinx it in any way possible. On the 7th year of our long, drawn out battle, the days finally came where my mother wasn’t lying anymore. He was getting worse by the minute and I soon had to deal with the new and upcoming changes that I knew were going to happen. Many of my family members started coming into town and visited or as my mother would say, “to say goodbye to my grandfather.” I couldn’t handle the fact that he was going to die, it just was an unreal possibility to me. As I sit here, and try to reencounter those horrible days it is hard for me to remember because I blocked so many of those awful memories out of my mind. Denial can be a disease you alone cannot control. I remember a very distinct day though, it was a week before my grandfather passed away, I had walked in the door and my mother started yelling at me. I was so confused as to what she was telling me. She was screaming at me, “Go in there and tell him it is okay to die! He is fighting to stay alive because of you, he doesn’t want to leave you! Go in there now and tell him!” I sat there, starring at my mother in shock as to what exactly my ears were hearing. I couldn’t believe she was making me face the one person in the world that mattered most and was forcing me to speak of nonsense. I fled outside to my bare backyard where no one was. I often went out there and sat and looked at the stars in the gazebo my grandfather built me. I prayed, and did most of my thinking there, it was my little sanctuary that I felt no one could invade. Sooner rather than later my private space was invaded by my mother, telling me to go inside right now. I walked into my grandfather’s room to find him sitting in his chair rather than laying down in his bed. He looked so tired and drained of life. I sat on his foot stool, trembling, and crying but trying to hide it from him, looked at him and said “grandpa, I love you, and well….I know you are really sick, and its okay if you have to go.” that’s all I could manage to say, and I secretly know that he knew what I was trying to say. He simply responded, “Toni, I know what I am doing.” I felt so relieved and I was done with the horrible task I was given by my mother. The next few days were hard, the cancer had spread so much attacking his esophagus making it impossible to eat or drink. He was watched 24 hours a day by a hospice when I was at school and when we all were home, by my mother and me and her boyfriend whom I hated. My grandmother and him even forgave each other and she was there as well. One night, I had decided to spend the night at my best friend heather’s house. I just didn’t want to be around all this sadness and apart of me still felt he wasn’t going anywhere and that miraculously his heath was going to just turn around and he would be fine, but that was my strongest hope and it wasn’t going to happen. I remember leaving and walking into his room to say goodbye I had said bye to everyone as they were all surrounded around his bed, I leaned over and gave him a kiss and told him I loved him and I left. Little did I know that was the last time I would ever see him alive and breathing ever again. The next morning on May 28th, 2001, Memorial day I woke up feeling different. I felt as the entire world was different but I just couldn’t figure it out. I had tried calling my mom all morning but couldn’t get a hold of her. My mother showed up at my best friend’s house and I had just walked out side because we were fighting, and I was so confused. I didn’t understand why she was there. So I walked over to her car and she got out and I had asked if everything was okay, and she just kept saying, “come here.” I replied “Its not grandpa right?” and she just said, “I am so sorry.” At that very moment, that very second, my whole world had changed and turned upside down. I knew my life was never going to be the same again, not without my wonderful grandfather who had raised me. That was the worst day of my life, and not a second goes by without thinking of him to this very day. That day, I went home and I felt like no life was left. There was nothing to come home to, nothing left. I was hurt, and angy, and confused as to the fact of why he had to go. I was literally traumatized, I don’t remember the next year at all. Not one second of it. The next year after that I remember slowly pulling through. Getting my life back, making new friends and trying to grow up and be prepared for high school which was in the next year. It was so hard but I did it. I went through a huge phase, the hardcore, punk rock phase. I was the girl that hung out with the guys and well, I blossomed and the guys started noticing me and I thrived on that attention. I met a boy named Jordan. He was so amazingly cute. I liked him so much but I was “just the friend” and the skater girl that chilled with them, in those words or others. I gave him advice on girls and he looked out for me, but all his friends started falling for me, and well he didnt like that much. so much happened that year, but apart of me was still dealing with my grandfather's death. That school year came to end fast, and 8th grade was over...summer was here and high school was not far off.
          That summer came and went and high school started. It was definitely not what i expected it to be. It was boring, stupid and a waste of time. I started to have bad thoughts, and i became so depressed. I just didnt care about living anymore, and apart of me had so much hate built up in me and resentment because my grandfather had left me. I definitely had a lot of healing to do but I didnt have enough time to do it. I started cutting my wrists, carving things in me, dyed my hair black and just didnt care. That year my mom got married behind my back, and I just couldnt take everything being thrown at me, i just kept thinking, "Why me?! Why did you leave me....why did god do this?" I even gave up believing god, stopped going to church and at one point hated god for everything that happened. The school year flew by, and Summer was here yet again. Summer was full of so much depression. "BAM BAM!" I heard pounding on my door as I am in a deep slumber, "Hello? Is anyone there, we will break down the door!" I looked outside my window barely able to comprehend what was going on, when i saw my whole street filled with three ambulances, 5 cop cars, search and rescue, Firefighters surrounded around my complex as well......how did they know I needed them?