Romee is dying.
Nothing about that is surprising. They already know just how little time she has from the day she was born. Cystic Fibrosis sets the alarm, and before it times out, she is determined to live life to the fullest and with no reservatio...
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It's messed up.
My biological grandfather, my mom's estranged father, was the devil who caused a whole lot of pain to people before he died. And that reality feels like having this dark cloud hanging over the family tree. You can't help but wonder, could that darkness seep into your own veins?
I mean, nobody wants to be the bad guy, right? You grow up thinking you're gonna be the hero of your own story. But knowing that your bloodline includes someone who did some seriously messed up stuff, it messes with your head.
It's like, am I gonna wake up one day and find myself making the same messed up choices? Will I be haunted by the same demons that Montano Wesley couldn't shake off? It's a real fear. A fear of becoming the villain in your own life.
And it's not like my mom talks about him much. He's this shadowy figure, this ghost from the past that nobody wants to acknowledge. But you can feel it in the air, the tension, the unease. It's a family secret that everyone knows but pretends not to.
I guess it's a reminder that we're all a mix of light and dark, and it's up to us to decide which side we wanna lean on. I just hope I can be the kind of person who breaks the cycle. Be the one who changes the narrative, rises above the darkness, and doesn't let the sins of the past dictate the future.
Yeah, but Ryan Peterson is making it tough to shake off the family curse Montano Wesley dropped on us. He's the dude at school trying some sketchy moves on my little sister, Chanel.
Chanel's my ride-or-die. We're like peanut butter and jelly, tight as hell. So, she spills the beans about Ryan Peterson pulling some messed up move on her. Groping her? Nah, that ain't gonna fly.
I roll up at home, find her all messed up on the couch. Asks her what went down, and she spills the tea about Ryan being a total creep. That's it, my fuse is lit. I don't take crap from jerks like him.
I locate Ryan, and let's just say his nose met my fist real quick. Couldn't let that slide. But here's the twist—it's like I'm staring at this reflection of the family curse. Montano Wesley's legacy, the dark side of the bloodline, it's right there in front of me.
Busting Ryan's nose, makes me feel like I'm battling this inner demon. It's a messed up cycle, and I'm desperately trying not to let it consume me. No, I ain't letting the devil in my DNA take control.
So, here I am fighting off the fear that I might be turning into the very thing I dread.
The wildest fix for my problem? Facing it head-on, walking the same tightrope the old devil himself, Montano Wesley, strolled. Testing how much control I got over my own demons to avoid turning into him.
I enlist in Pentagon Defense, snagging the code name he ditched ages ago—Rifle. Yeah, that was him back then, and now it's me. No clue where my choices will lead, but mark my words. I'll throw down with every fiber to prove I can keep those inner demons under wraps.
