Memoir- Rough Draft

I.

Most people don't enjoy others life stories, which is why I've been hesitant to write this in the first place. For those that are still reading I believe my story needs to be revealed. If you "know" me its a 99% chance that you really have no idea who I am, but I'm willing to expand that 1% by taking you along on my journey.
I'm twenty and I go to a community college near my home town and work as a supervisor at the mall. Mix in being an actual college kid and that leaves little time for what I want and will do for life: write. I love the feeling of transferring my emotions into words whether I'm in the best or worst mood it always seems to help. I've always tried staying positive, no matter what each day throws at me. Many can't imagine what I've gone through, but I truly wouldn't change who I am, so this story isn't about sympathy. Its about life shaping you into who you really are and no matter what tries to get in your way you never give up.
I grew up never really knowing what happened to my father. After I was told a variety of different reasons i eventually figured out he wasn't on vacation or that he wrestled so much he broke all of his bones. It turns out he was shot and killed in a trailer court. I was 4 years old so I barely even remember him. To be honest I never once thought it was hard growing up without a dad, thanks to my amazing mother and best friend. She was a better mom than most moms and a better dad than many of the dads I knew. I played catch with her every day once the snow melted until the snow started to fall. She would do anything for me, I was the luckiest kid in the world.
I just turned six and my baby brother was just a month away. If you do the math its obvious that he should be classified as a half brother. His dads name is Joel and he disappeared once my brother was born. I raised Cullen when Mom was working 40 hours at the university of iowa hospital while going back to school to get her nursing degree. I would get my brother up and going for preschool when I was 11 and I began realizing I was the man of the house, a responsibility most 11 year olds never experience.
If there was one thing I knew about my father when I was younger it was that he was a legend at Iowa Valley High School. He was a two-time state wrestling champion at Iowa Valley and they made sure no one would forget his name. In the trophey room there's a plaque with the big picture of him after winning state, and his name is on the wrestling mats. My dads brother Tracy was also a very good wrestler. I don't know much about him other than he died of cancer a few years after my father passed.
I began wrestling in second grade but I only competed in meets that didn't keep score. I remember going to a tournament in North English with my mom, my older cousin Wade and my Uncle Vince. They all assured me that they wouldn't be keeping score, that it was just for fun. I ended up getting first place and began enjoying wrestling a little more as long as I won. The enjoyment quickly ended at the Chad and Tracy Dietze wrestling tournament in Marengo. There was a picture in the town paper where they set up me pinning my friend Nick Schmuecker to advertise the event. It felt like all eyes were on me when I walked on the mat that memorialized my dad and uncle. I got third place out of four in that tournament, and never wrestled again.
I grew up having a love for playing sports, especially baseball. I played football and ran track until my sophomore year, the same year I dropped band and my grades began to slip. I ended up sticking through basketball where I could only play when a team ran a 2-3 zone (I was only good at shooting three point shots) and baseball. I was much smaller and undeveloped which is a big disadvantage in all sports, except wrestling. People said some awful things about me but never once did I let it get to me, I always gave 110%. Someone told my grandma that I had no business being on the basketball court, that I was too small. I played varsity baseball in 8th grade and would play when we either needed a walk, or if we were winning by ten runs. When I went up to the plate one game a lady from the stands asked why the bat boy was hitting. I was always told, "You're too small to play basketball you should wrestle, it's in your blood." Most people who said that were friends, fellow wrestlers, and coaches of my dad. If I let all of those people down it only makes sense that I let my dad down too, so I'm sorry for not carrying tradition.
However, none of the people that pressured me into wrestling didn't care what I went through. They have no idea what it's like being 9 years old and getting pinned twice at the tournament dedicated to their father and uncle.
My childhood was amazing up until my junior year. My mom began dating again, and to my surprise she fell in love. To this day I do like Jamie and his two kids and I wish I would have been more open to them. Once we moved from the town I lived in and loved my entire life things seemed to be going downhill. My grades went from merely perfect to barely passing and my attitude was beginning to shift for the worse. There is one day out of that year that I will never, ever forget.
I was sitting in 2nd period criminal justice class and we came upon the subject of self-defense. My teacher then began telling a story: "This group of boys were bullying this other kid all day and told him they were going to beat him up after school. Well once school was out this group of boys went searching for him and went to the trailer court he lived in. These boys were physically fit and great athletes at this school, so once he saw the car full of guys he was scared for his life so he grabbed a gun. Once the driver came out of the car BOOM! He shot him from the door of his trailer. He was threatened, his life was in danger he was defending himself, so it was a case of self-defense.
In my head I was thinking, "Yeah if they were threatening to kill him, the guy probably deserved it." My thought process was interrupted by my teacher continuing his lecture,
"I think many of you know who this was". Everyone shook their head no, making this story new to the entire class. "Chad Dietze".
My heart pumped so fast, up to this point I didn't hear the entire story but I never thought my dad was the bad guy. Everyone was silent, like God pressed the pause button for a good 10 seconds. He said sorry and ended the lecture. I sat there in disbelief, not saying a word praying for the bell to hurry up and ring so I could get out of that room and breathe. My head was clouded with all these different things I've heard about my dads death and I broke down and cried in front of my entire class and left the room. I went to the guidance counselors office to let him know what was bothering me, and he asked if I'd like my mom to come clear up any confusion I had about the situation. I was ready to hear it, the true story and nothing more so I called her asking to come to the school. She must have sensed something in my voice and didn't ask a single question, instead she replied, "I'll be there in 5 minutes".
Sure enough less than five minutes passed and she walked in with her nursing scrubs, ready to tell me the untold truth..
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