Hi, my name is Sam, I am 14 years old, and my parents died the day I was born. I was looked after by my grandparents, but when I turned 4, they passed away, and i was put into a carehome.
There were other kids there, just like me, but I could never feel happy in there. The other children started to bully me, calling me names, even physically hurting me sometimes, but the adults did nothing; they didn't even help me.
This is when I started getting depression, everyday seemed like a battle to keep going, I wanted to be with my parents, with my grandparents, I just wanted to be loved. I was in that care home until I was 13 years old, scars, bruises, pain. I had to escape. I knew I had no other choice. The way I was treated - like dirt. I still have panic attacks because of it to this day.
I may not look the best, I'm not the smartest, nor the prettiest and i have many flaws, but I don't understand why I was so hated, so despised, so abhorred. Growing up was hard, exceptionally hard. I never got to meet my parents, i saw photos that my grandparents had shown me when I was really little, but it isn't the same. I never heard their voices, i was never like the other kids i met. They spoke about their parents, where they went, what they did;and I loathed it as i didn't know what to do or say because those things had never happened to me. I couldn't relate.
Although i had my grandparents, they were elderly and weak, therefore we couldn't go many places and i didn't grow up like the others. I was an outcast.
Anyway, i ran. I ran as far away as I could. Now, I'm living on the streets of London. I haven't eaten in days. I'm not complaining though, how could I? This is better then the carehome ever was. I sympathise anyone who has to go there. Last night, some scumbags poured petrol on me, and set me alight. I managed to put it out but I have scars covering almost every inch of my body. I look like a monster. Everyday when people pass me I can tell what they're thinking. Some even think outloud. 'Freak' 'Tramp' 'Revolting' But they don't know what I went through. How much I suffered. Everyone has a story, just not everyone knows it.
ВИ ЧИТАЄТЕ
Adopted By JackSepticEye
ФанфікиA young girl who was thrown out of her carehome and onto the terrifying, dark and cold streets of London is just about surviving when she recognises a familiar Irish accent. Is there hope? Is that really who she thinks it is?
