December 26, 1985 - Aaron Raymond Faucher was born at Marcus J. Lawrence Memorial Hospital in Cottonwood, Arizona. (Please don’t steal my identity)

For the next several months, my Mother, Father and I lived in an itty-bitty Central Arizona town called Camp Verde. As you can imagine, I don’t remember a thing.

Within a year, we moved back to Connecticut where most of the family lived. We stayed at my grandparent’s house in Bristol for a while. I remember a few things about living in my grandparent’s house. I once stabbed a fork into the control panel of the dishwasher, nearly electrocuting myself. I also stuck my hand on a hot burner on the stove. It was an electric stove, the burners stop being red long before they stop being hot.

We then moved into an apartment in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. It was a beautiful area we lived in. I remember that I had my own room and my bed has a “Who Framed Roger Rabbit” comforter. There was a slow-moving river right down the road from the apartment and I remember going into the water with my cousin and father and coming out covered in leeches. I am seriously petrified of leeches. Luckily I haven’t had one on me sense, otherwise I would have like died. I also remember that there were mice in the garage of that place.

My parents eventually bought a house in the next town over from Stockbridge: Great Barrington, Massachusetts. The house was sky blue and really old, at least 150 years. We lived across the street from a big hall-type building for a church or something. The parking lot there was lined in chestnut trees which were fun to play around. Our house had a big yard past our backyard was a white barn that had yellow roses growing against it. There were huge maple trees, a swing tied to one of them, and one even larger tree (I don’t know what kind it was) in the back yard. A small area of our yard was enclosed in a tall fence that you couldn’t see into. We called that “The Pen”. Raspberries grew wild all along the periphery of our backyard and in The Pen. Marijuana also grew in The Pen, planted by my father. Our garage was as old as the house and I remember it being a really cool place to see when my dad would let me. Inside the house the office, the kitchen, the dining room, the laundry room, the living room, the bathroom and water closet were all on the first floor. The second floor had my parent’s bedroom, my room and an extra room. There was also a hall closet with a window in it(!) and the second bathroom. I met a boy who lived next door, his name was Stephen and we were best friends. We would hang around in his garage or the area between my garage and his, where we would break the windows of the old doors laying around there. I used to make “potions” in the bathroom all the time. I would mix ridiculous things like salt, pepper, vinegar, water and shampoo and pour it on the flowers outside. Stephen (it seemed rather immediately) moved to Florida.

June 24, 1991 - my brother was born in Fairview Hospital. We continued to live in the sky blue house on East Street. I was 5 and I used to give the weather report to everyone. It would usually be something like, “today will be windy with clouds and a chance of rain and sun”. I loved my new brother and called him “my baby”. as he got older, he got cuter and cuter and everyone liked him more than me. I went to school at William Cullen Bryant School in Great Barrington. The school was built in 1889 and I always thought it was a really cool place. At recess, I used to impress my friends by counting to 300. I hung out with the teachers and the playground monitors more than the kids it seemed. I remember being really scared of a boy from second grade who kept chasing me because I would talk to his girlfriend. I remember being a big hit with the girls, especially the older ones. They would say hi to me in the hallway. One time a sixth grader talked to me. Whenever someone in my family would ask about school I would tell them about my 15 or 20 girlfriends (to this day, my grandma “Crackers” still asks me how many girlfriends I have). My kindergarten teacher was Ms. Blum. She would yell at me when I talked to my friends during nap time. I swear she once threw my friend and I up against the wall for talking. That’s how is seemed to me then at least. She would tell us to “sit down, shut up and read”. One time a grown-up sixth grade kid from the attached middle school came up to me and asked me if I wanted to buy drugs. I tried to tell Ms. Blum but she told me to go away, that I was interrupting her chat with another teacher. I told my mom when I got home and my mom called the principal. A couple days later I was called into the principal’s office (normally I was sent there for being "bad") and the kid had to apologize to me.

like what you see so far? the whole story is in the works...


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