It was summer, one of those days that weren't too hot, but warm with a nice breeze. "What am I doing here?" I thought to myself. Bryson was playing in the yard, by himself. He looked so sad, pushing his ball around in the shade of a tall oak.
I glanced down at the photograph in my hands. A mother and father smiling behind they're two children; a boy and a teenage girl. They seemed so happy, what you wouldn't see in that photo are the tears, the screaming, and fighting. Being shoved out the door and told that you were no longer welcome here because you're a freak. You're ten year old brother crying, trying to reach out to you, being held back by a mother that couldn't even look you in the eyes. Leaving without a word, just the thoughts of where you're going to go now, how will you move on, who will accept you. . .you have no home now. You wouldn't see that in this picture, but thats how my life went before anyone found out.
I glanced back up to the house I once called my home, Camil...