This Blood: Therapy Sessions pt. 1

I’ve never written any kind of story, so I’m sure I’m gonna do a whole lot of things wrong on this.
At the very least it will maybe bring peace to myself, maybe a little “therapy session” as rapper NF calls it.
Spoiler alert , this doesn’t have a happy ending. Really no great meaning at the end. So if that’s what your looking for, you can find it somewhere else.
I want to tell you the story of the Williams family. The tragic story of the Williams family. Barry, Teresa and Bragan Williams, and how my brother (bo) and I fit into this tragedy. I just want to remember as much as I can, so this is the only way I know how.

I only know how to tell this story from one perspective, mine. So, let’s do this.
Therapy session begins now...
I was born Nov. 11 1989 to Marvin and Teresa Cole. My mother already had one son , my big brother Bo Holloway. My mom had a bit of a rocky ride with relationships to say the least.
So my mom and dad’s relationship didn’t last long, I would say they were married for a couple years.
Bo’s dad past away around the same time that mom divorced my dad. His death isn’t talked about much. Bo doesn’t really like talking about it, so I honor that.

My mom worked a bunch of jobs, so bo and I jumped around a lot. We stayed with my great aunt “Duju” quite a bit, as well as our grandmother “granny”. We had such fun just being boys. Our imaginations took us away from our unstable life. Everything was crazy around us, but we let our imaginations take us away to an amazing place. That’s just how we rolled. We always couldn’t wait for mom to get off work, we didn’t have much, but we had each other. That’s all we needed.

We moved a lot for awhile, I remember one place we called the “blue house”, mom rented it from this old dude who was super cool. He has a small “put put” joint and would always let us play. My aunt and uncle lived right next to us so that was cool.

At about 4 years of age, my brother at 9, this new guy started hanging around us and mom. I specifically remember his beard and his fro. It was awesome. A hairy, burly Italian stallion named Barry.
More and more he hung out with us, obviously at my age I couldn’t tell what was going on, but my mother had fallen in love with this guy. To be honest at first I didn’t like him. Mainly because I was a spoiled brat for the most part, and he wouldn’t let me be a spoiled brat, so that was no fun. Eventually I realized he was “cool”. about 1 year later, my world got a little more crazy. I had 3 separate head injuries. The last one almost killed me. I fell from a top floor apartment unto concrete, head first. Long story short I’m half deaf due to that. Also from that came social awkwardness, in a big room, there is a big echo like sound when a bunch of ppl are in it, and so I can’t hear anything anyone says, and it makes me anxious. So usually I’m a hermit. Anyway back to age 5. After almost dying, life went back to normal pretty much. Except we left that apartment complex, hallelujah.
Eventually we moved to morris, a small city north of Birmingham. In a trailer park , and boy did we have fun, there were so many kids. It was heaven to bo and I. This is really where I really start remembering things pretty well. Mom, bo , and I had such a great time with just us. I got to see my dad every other weekend so that was cool. Barry soon moved into the trailer park just a couple trailers up from us. This leads in to probably the best part of our life as a family. Part 2 soon to follow...