Story of My Life

By Jenny Lynn

This story is based on a true Story of My Life. It is a biography and summary. What you will read about in this book is how I had a rough life. I made it through the struggles.

I write this book to be dedicated to my children, Joseph and Kody. So when I get to see them again they will understand.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Mar 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490723914

Jenny Lynn

Jenny Lynn is a wife and mother as well as an author of clean, contemporary fiction. She loves all things coffee, books, and Jesus. When she's not writing you can find her playing soccer with her family or baking up new recipes in the kitchen. "Second Chances" is the first installment of the Oaktown Series, her debut Christian novellas. On August 4th, 2018 the sequel, "The Real Thing", will be released for publication on Amazon, Smashwords, and other retailers. To keep up with what she's doing, follow Jenny Lynn at her website, www.AuthorJennyLynn.com!!!

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

My name is Jenny Lynn. I was born in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma on the date of 1966. My mom had three girls and two boys. A lot of my growing up as a young child is blanks out into space.

It seemed we like we moved a lot. But on the holidays, we would go visit grandma My Grandparents lived in the country and my grandpa would get onto me and my brother Mack for playing chase in the house. They had a really big house. I can remember at one visit me and Mack was running through the house and in the middle of the floor of grandma’s bedroom there was a real live Rattlesnake. We both backed up real slow and run to tell grandpa about it. So he went into the room and killed it. I think the holiday was a Thanksgiving or a Christmas. I can’t remember which. It seems to me that was the last time we got to see them. Grandma passed on at the age of 66 and then grandpa after that.

We had lived in town. Our step dad was a Greyhound mechanic. And if we didn’t do what was right, we got our butts beaten black and blue. Mom never had the heart to whip us. And we were born up never knowing our really dad. We were told he was a German. Maybe it was a good thing to have never known of him. It didn’t make a difference to us children anyhow. We had our mom to raise us.

Our step dad had traded a car he had for two Shetland ponies after we had moved again. One was named Smokey and the other was named Rinky Dink. I went to bridle her up because I wanted to ride her bare back. So I went to jump on her Indian style, when I did she reared up and I fell to the ground and hit my head hard and was knocked out. My mom and step day had rushed me to the hospital. I had a concussion and was in coma like state for two weeks before I finally woke up. The Doctor was really nice although had given me two dollars in quarters and told me I was a good girl.

We would always help keep the house clean for mom. It seemed like she would be down with a sickness. I had a friend named Beth and her brother’s name was Johnny. She had said that your mom is a bitch and that pissed me off, so I picked up a two by four and whopped her with it. Well, she runs home crying and told her mom. So her mom came over to talk to my mom. But since my mom was laying down sick, I was the one who answered the door and told her mom what had happened. I never did get my butt beat for that. I never got in trouble over that. But she never did come over to our house to play again. Which I didn’t care.

I would always seem to be missing school and on top of that I hated school. I would play hooky and miss the bus. Or, stay home and take care of mom. When I did go to school, I would make an excuse that I had to go to the bathroom and then I would take tissue paper and throw it up on the ceiling and start a big food fight in the cafeteria. Back then, the principal was allowed to paddle your butt. That would hurt.

One day, my brother and our sister took and went to the store without permission and stole some cigarettes off of the shelf and we were smoking them up in the attic. We sure made a big whole up there. I knew what time it was when our step dad got off work and home. I knew it was time for an ass whooping.

I used to always take the blame for my brother and my sister because I was the oldest of all us kids. And to be honest about our step dad was a mean bastard. When mom was sick, he would take me into the bathroom and ask me to fondle his private. I was afraid to tell my mom. She was good mom and never smoked. She didn’t drink booze. But she loved us kids. She had to end up in the hospital. After about a week, she died. It was too late when they found she had bone cancer up to the age of 39.

After mom died, our step dad called DCF and someone came and took us away. We had ended up in a shelter for a while. First couple of days there, I ended up stabbing some kid with a fork. He thought he was being cute to call my mom a name. We really loved our mom and I don’t have any respect for people who disrespect deceased people like my momma.

I was only ten years old when my mom died. To the world had seemed harsh growing up. We kept getting moved from foster homes to group homes then my aunt and Uncle found out where me and my brother were being kept and came and got us. They were living in Wyoming at the time, trying to run a hotel and a restaurant.

My aunt was a mean bitch and my uncle was by marriage to my aunt tried to make a whore out of me. But that never happened. It had been lucky for me and my brother to run off with someone who helped us. After six months, DCF found us and yanked us our out school. My brother and I were taken to the DCF office. While no one was looking, I told my brother, let’s make a getaway and run for the door so we can get out of here. That was when we were living in Oregon for over six months. The friend that was taking care of us on the ranch didn’t know we were yanked by DCF. We were helping punch cattle being on the ranch on the weekends. After school we would help feed the livestock. Those were our chores. We also helped to keep the house clean and would cook in the evenings.

I finally started learning things. My brother and I were put into a Foster Home and we decided to have a mud fight. My brother says I’m on my sister’s side and the boy named James asked, how come? My brother replied, Because my sister cheats. I had made a mud patty and put a rock in it. When I threw it, well let’s just say it hit the person and that person hollered, I quit. Aw that hurt. We had loved that foster home, but were sorry we had moved again to DCF. It was only a temporary home to us and DCF had separated me and my brother. My brother went to another foster home. He was there for a while. The people had a ton of Boston Terriers. Then I and my brother were put back together again.

We would sneak off town to the Magnum Rattlesnake Derby in the summer time when school was out. There was this awesome fried snake that tasted like fried chicken and so many snakes in one pin. Big ones, little ones and all sizes. Btu to me and my brother it was really neat. We didn’t stay long at the foster home. We had to move. Then was a foster home that wanted to adopt me. But they were told no, because they had finally sold their house and was moving to California. I had yet again been put into another group home. This group home I had liked. I was always by myself. I never care to have friends. Probably, because I had been moved around so much, I never had time to even make friends and now I was at the age of 17. I had my first real job working at a pet store. It was fascinating to have a big rat for a pet.

Then I