When I was little, I lived with my mom and dad until the age of three. My parents' relationship dissolved, which left my sister and I living with my dad on the streets until I was 5 years old. At that time, my dad couldn't take care of us anymore and dropped off my sister and I at my Aunt Sylvia's house. I was sad and heartbroken. I started geting comfortable at my aunt's house within a month. I've now lived with my aunt for nine years. She has loved me with all her heart. My aunt was diagnosed with fibromayalgia when she was in her twenties. Every day of her life is lived in pain. I always try to make her feel happy. She is my Guardian Angel. I help her make food, clean up around the house, and help her. You know that people can't have it all, but my aunt really does try to make sure I have it all.