Look through. please and thank you

My earliest memory is a memory that haunts me every day. It's a memory that I simply cannot forget or get over. When I think of this memory, this liquid substance begins to stream down my face, and I begin to shout out obscenities at a rapid rate. This memory, which I cannot seem to get over, is the memory of me being forced to become a man at the age of eight.
It was a normal, blistering hot summer morning with no clouds in sight, and I was up at the crack of dawn, with my feet in the sofa, watching, and laughing at my favorite cartoons, while eating Frosted Flakes, my favorite cereal. I loved Frosted Flakes simply because "they're gr-r-reat". I had watched about two hours of cartoons, before my mother stormed into the room- her nostrils flaring, her mouth quivering and drooling, her hands closed into fists. I can say that she was angry. Angry as a bull. She just stood there for a moment and then uttered these words, "Get out and don't ever come back". I did not take her seriously, and as she left the room, I started to giggle and I mean giggle, but then I heard noises. It sounded like someone was packing a bag or something, but I was not sure. At first, I thought my mom was getting a belt, so I quickly turned off the television. When she emerged back from down the hall, I was right; she did not have a belt, she had a bag, and in the bag were my clothes. Basically, she had packed my clothes and was kicking me out. My mouth was hanging, and my eyebrows furrowed. I was shocked because I did not believe that this would happen. At first, I thought that she was joking or trying to teach me a lesson, so I left out my mom's home laughing because I was sure that she was teaching me a lesson, but later, I learned that she was not.
For the next eight years until I turned sixteen, I was homeless. I walked the streets all day and all night. I can honestly say that it was not "gr-r-reat". At night, the streets were empty and dark. I could not see or make out anything. I was mistaking street signs for people. My heart was pounding with fear when I passed someone because I thought that I was going to get robbed, attacked, or killed. My legs were hurting from all the excessive walking, but my heart was also hurting because I felt alone in this world. I can honestly say that I was afraid because being homeless is nothing an eight-year-old kid should be experiencing. I had to quickly do a lot of growing up and had to do some things that are not ethical, i.e., rob and steal from people.
One of them that I remember vividly happened at a convenience store. I was very hungry. I had not eaten in days, so I walked into this store, grabbed all the food that I could carry and was headed for the exit, when the owner started shooting. None of the bullets hit me, but one of them did hit this poor, innocent old man who was just shopping. I quickly ran out of the store and as I was running, I kept saying to myself, "I got that man killed. I got that man killed". Still to this day, I have no idea if the man survived his injuries, but when I glanced at him before running, he had lost a ton of blood and was not moving. I regret it every day. I never wanted to steal, rob, or get anyone hurt, but it was the only way that I could survive at that time. I had no other choice because I had no one to rely on. Being homeless was surely not "gr-r-reat" and was probably the hardest part of my life.
This was the worst event of my life, and one that I probably will never forget. Every day was a struggle. I was never happy and was always mad and hungry. I just never thought that I would be homeless or at the mercy of strangers for food and money. I experienced things that most people don't even think about. I never envision those things happening to me. However, I guess, I learned that I can anything. I mean there is nothing worse than being homeless. I know that I have been dealt a bad hand, but nothing will stop me from fulfilling my dreams because I know that I was not destined to have a mediocre life.