I have never known happiness. I was the product of my mom's rape; a fact she never let me forget. The youngest of 5 kids. To help raise us, my mom found one abusive drunk after another. She dealt with it all through drugs. Even now, her body still lives but she is dead. I had no hope as a child. Until I made my first friend at the age of 9. For the first time, I saw some joy in the world. One night, we were all attacked and she was killed. I got to see the only person who gave a d*** about me killed. I spent most of my early teen years in and out of trouble. Taking almost any drug I could find. We lived hard and most of the kids I hung out with died from drug over-dose, gang-related violence, and even random acts of nature. In my late teens, I started dating a nice clean-cut girl who really helped my turn my life around. Then one day, she told me she was pregnant and I was going to be a father. And I thought to myself I would be a great father. The father I never had. I would be everything a father is suppose to be. My son was born september 11, 2001 (i know, wierd). Even through the tragedies of that day, I have never been happier. However, my son was born sick. He lived for three months and died on December 14th of that year. It drove his mom overboard and she took her own life. And once again, I was alone. It has been proven over and over again there is no hope in this world. No joy...no love....no point. I try to keep going. And everyday I sit in my empty apartment struggling to find a reason. I keep telling myself "everything happens for a reason" and that God never puts more on us then we can handle. I'm just so tired of seeing pain everywhere i look. I buried my friends, I buried the love of my life, and I buried my child. What reason could there be for that? I'm just so tired and I don't want to do this anymore.