One phone call is all it took for all hell to break lose in Detroit. But I'm a little ahead of myself.
Christina Mercer was in the system from the ages of five to eleven. Then Evelyn Mercer took her in. Anyone that came across her could tell just by looking in her eyes that she's seen too much. She's been through the sreets of Detroit and back. Evelyn also took in four other boys Bobby, Angel, Jeremiah, and Jack. This was Chris's family and everyone knew that if you so muched as thought of hurting anyone one of them you'd better pray to god that you die before she got to you.
Most people would describe Chris's life before the age of five to be and inferno short of hell. Chris would say it was just the first five years of life. A junkie father and a dead beat mom who, lets be honest was only around for the nine hours of labor and maybe two days after leaving the hospital. When her dad wasn't shooting up in the living room he was beating thr crap out of her for some magical reason that she never really felt like asking for.
Chris learned at a very early age that silence was the key living. Keeping you mouth closed was the one thing that you had to do to push forward another day. She never smiled not even as a baby because in her eyes there wasn't anything to smile about.
After a few neighbors got tired of all the banging she was taken away and put in one hell hole after another. There was the bad houses, the houses with too many kids for the fat checks, there where the houses that were covered in every bug and rodent you could think of, and then there were the really bad ones. The ones that it was impossible to go to sleep in because you'd just be woken up by some guy three or four times your size wanting to get off.
This was Chris's life for the first eleven years of her life. There was no playing in the park, or running around with other kids, no home cooked dinners at the table and being asked if she had a good day, and not one single ounce of love or happiness.
And that was fine with her.