Home some people would say is where your family is , I beg to differ, because if that's the case then a home can house monsters. It can gift you anxiety and later on depression, stripping you off your confidence, your capability to be complete . A step father beating the shit out of you , pulling your blankets at night and "turning you into a woman" as your mother listens in the other room, who else can you turn to? Every sound gets your heart beating so fast and your body trembling out of sheer terror.
The unfairness of a parent when he or she chooses a favourite child and makes no attempt to hide it and you become the bad egg so that even your siblings begin to hate you and beat you up . That's the thing about being a child, people assume you'll forget and forgive. They don't know that every time you close your eyes it all comes back.
Moving from one foster home to another, and each is hell on earth, sometimes you wish you'd rather die than move on to the next but you keep on hoping. Living on the streets,you are no longer recognised by anyone, not even the state , you are forgotten.
A drunk mom who does not acknowledge your existence, by the time you're 12 you've met so many "dads" you've lost count .
Your parents dying in a car accident, your aunt taking you in , but when she's reduced your family fortune to nothing, she sends you out into the streets.
There monsters in every home, different types and they keep growing.
By the time you're 13 , the voices in your head have taken control, you're no longer your own person . Your heart has this weight that your fragile body cannot hold. You should die. You don't belong with the living. So you pick up a blade , and cut as hard as you can, and it feels so good and so wrong at the same time and it's frustrating. The frustration turns into anger and you attack your arms with an unknown monstrosity. Then there's blood all over , and that's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
The habit grows on you.
Do they notice? No , not until your arms and hips no longer have space. Do they know what's happening? Naah , you can hear them whispering to each other that you've probably joined a cult and that hurts because you need help, you're desperate for someone to understand you , to hold you and listen to you.
You are lost , broken, dead until he comes into your life. He sees you . The you beneath the mask , and he embraces you, loves you that at some point you begin doubting his insanity. Like a puzzle, slowly he puts you back together. And every time the pain of all of it comes rushing in , he hugs you so tight it escapes . You feel safe. You've finally found home . That's what a home is , it's love , affection and safety. It's where you can be your authentic self.
That right there is the biggest crime of all , being cruel to a child, crushing he's/ her dreams, snatching or hope ( aren't children hopes and dreams? ). Depriving a child a home is a cruelty that should not be forgiven.
