It comes every year...

I was sitting on the porch of the Curtis house smoking a weed when it hit me in the face. Today is November 8th. The gang doesn't know when my birthday is. I didn't tell them for a reason. I don't wanna make a big deal about it. I don't see a point in birthdays. There's only two people in the world, that are alive, that know my birthday. Brooke and my dad. Brooke is my little sister. Her real name is Brooklyn because she was born in Brooklyn, New York. I miss her like crazy but she probably don't even care no more about me. I wouldn't blame her either. I left her alone with that scum of a person that we call dad. I couldn't have taken her with me. I could try to find her tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll be 18.... I could become her legal guardian but that won't happen... I wanna see her again. See how much she's grown up... it's been exactly 8 years since I've seen her. She'd be 16... my thoughts were interrupted by two-bit. "Dally are you stayin' over tonight or no?" "Yeah I'll stay over" I said stomping on the weed and standing up. I'm gonna call Brooke tomorrow and tell her to come down and be with me.