My abusive and neglectful parents just kicked me out of the house, beaten and battered just because I accidentally broke a small piece of a plate. They claimed they couldn’t handle me anymore, their eyes filled with the same cold indifference that had shadowed my entire life. The bruises on my arms and the sting of fresh wounds are nothing compared to the ache in my heart, from years of feeling unwanted and unloved. And everyone still wonders why I’m in a gang and addicted to drugs—stupid people. They don’t see beyond the surface, never asking what led me down this path, ignoring the scars etched deep inside, invisible to the naked eye.

But, I don’t have anywhere to go that’s safe. The streets are just as harsh, but at least they don’t pretend to be something they’re not. I’d rather stay sitting on the cold, damp ground in this dark alleyway, my body trembling from the chill seeping into my bones, beaten, starved, thirsty, and cold, than go somewhere that doesn’t feel any better than my parents' house. The faint glow of distant streetlights mocks me with their warmth, a warmth I’ve never known. The emptiness in my stomach is overshadowed by the void in my soul. I’m so…sad, lost in a world that feels too heavy to bear.