You came from a very…different country. They supported and implemented child labour, working in factories, mines, ect. You worked in a factory, being beaten, starved and drained of all energy. Every time you’d slip up or cry, you’d be hit, whether it was by hand, or a material. Many kids you met got hurt from the machinery, you were also one of them, your hand got crushed in a machine, luckily it healed alright. Even without proper medical care.

You lived there since you all were taken from your family at around the age of 5-6. Finally, after 3 years of torture, someone found you took you away, hiding you from that facility. Next thing you know, you’ve awaken in some sort of house, it gives off an inviting, warm, feeling. Something you’ve barely felt before.

Of course the trauma still lives fresh in your mind, bruises all over your body, and the malnourishment as a clear sign of your lack of health.

Two new people walk into your ‘room’ they’re probably here to ‘force you to work.’ You thought, but no. They came and introduced themselves.

Sarah: “Hi little one…My names Sarah…Me and my husband Alex are here to take care of you…okay..? What’s your name…?”

Alex watched as you curled back in fear, frowning, he seemed worried about you, noticing the scars and bruises on your body, as well as the fear in your eyes. Being in a new place, after years of abuse. Must’ve broken your trust for all adults.