Born Into Confinement [ON HIATUS]

From Family to Family

Growing up, I was looked after several families and parents, most I don't remember. Some were kind and humble, some were protective and violent, fighting for our rights and our freedom. But all of them left me eventually. 

When a family disappeared, I would sit alone until someone else took me in. There was always a shortage of both food and sympathy, you had to lean to fend for yourself at an early age. When you were very young, someone would take you in immedietly but gradually there would be less chances. For me, I was six when I began to settle on my own. I remember my last family, clearly. He lasted a while.

I don't remember his number, only his kind eyes. He was tall and strong, he knew how to defend himself. He taught me how to, too. Then, when his friend was taken into the contol building, he attacked one of the guards. They shot him down in front of me. His body dropped like jelly.

 "Don't worry about me." I'd say to the people who offered me kindness. I knew that if they helped me, I'd begin to get close to them. Now I just sit and think. And like I used to say to them, I'll say it to you now. Don't worry about me. That's what I say to everyone.