When I was born my father named me Kristine. Commonly this name is spelled with a C, so it's hard to find personalized pre-made items in the stores. This had caused me some stress, but I think it's what makes me unique. That's who I am, a unique girl.
             My story begins 17 years ago, on July 3, 1987 in Benedictine Hospital. I came into the world screaming and crying like most babies do. I like to think however, that I was making my mark as the loud, and dramatic girl they would come to love. Waiting for me in the hospital were my parents, Bruce and Ellen K, and my sisters Lori, and Jill C. My sister's were my mother's children from a previous marriage. I was my father's first, and only child. In a way, that makes me the oldest and youngest at the same time.
             For the first eight months of my life I lived in an apartment that, for obvious reasons, I can not remember. My parents then bought the house I would live in until I was 13. Lori did not live with us. She lived with her father because it was closer to the special school that she had to go to. I only saw her on weekends, and holidays.
             When I was 6 Lori was around 19. She had been living with her boyfriend, and became pregnant. She moved in with us so that my mom and sister could help her out. Nine months later, I became an aunt. Lori had given birth to a beautiful baby boy. She named him Zackery. I was so proud of becoming an aunt. Most kids my age had little brothers and sisters that they had to help out with. I didn't have a brother, but I had a nephew to look out for.
             After the baby was born, Lori moved back in with her boyfriend. Life at my house went on as normal. My sister was always getting in trouble for one thing or another. I'd spend my days at school, and when I came home I'd spend that time following Jill around trying to be just like her. When I wasn't annoying her I was making up games to keep myself amused,...