Prologue
To understand where I am today and who I am today, you must understand where it is that I have been. And the only way to understand my life is to know the people who were in it and the people who have made me, well, me.
I once had a family, a mother, who loved me unconditionally and always did her best to protect me from that man that I called papa. My papa was a man who got angry quickly and attacked anyone who was in his path, sometimes that was me, but most of the time my mama would step in and takes the beating for me. There were never any reasons for his beatings, but it always my fault, my fault that he was drunk, that there was no food, which he couldn't afford and the life he wanted. When he was away my mama would tell me it wasn't, that he was a grumpy fool, she taught me how to read, I loved reading, I always felt I was on an adventure when I read, somewhere where my papa couldn't hurt us.
That quickly changed. My papa was laid off from his job, went to Duke's Saloon and came home to find me reading with my mama. Well, I can not even begin to describe, how his chocolate brown eyes turned black with rage, veins popping out from his face and arms from the anger he possessed. "TEACHING THIS UNGRATEFUL PIECE OF TRASH? WHAT WILL THAT EVER BE GOOD FOR? SPENDING MONEY ON POINTLESS SHIT!" He screamed at us, my mama always warned me to hide when he got like this. I ran to my room, grabbed my only friend, my teddy bear, Mr. Hugs. I squeezed tightly as I heard my mother screaming for him to stop and leave her be. I peeked around our little apartment hallway corner and say my mama lying there, I ran towards crying for her to wake up. That's when he started to beat me again, as soon as I could wiggle free I ran for the door clutching my bear tightly.
I ran away as fast as I could until... BUMP! Stupid Brooklyn, always have someone in the streets. "Where da ya tink ya goin' so fast?" the boy asked me. All I did was stare at him, he was roughly my age, looked real dirty and had a bunch newspapers. I noticed his intense blue eyes, they almost scared me, and then he noticed my bruises. "Whoah, wha happened to ya?" he asked me again, I only reply with "Papa was angry and my mama couldn't fight back anymore." The boy grabbed my hand and led me to the Brooklyn Newsboys Lodging House. I will never forget that place; it felt warm and comforting almost. An older man walked down the stairs and took my good look at my physical state and immediately when to call the police.
The police went to my apartment and had told me that my papa was dead, they never told me how but I knew it was true. I had waited all day at the Lodging House for someone to come get me. Finally, a man came, said he was my uncle, Duke, and that we was going to take care of me, he picked me up and threw Mr. Hugs on the ground I cried desperately for him but my "uncle" Duke said I wouldn't need it. The blue eyed boy stared at me as I went away with him.
That is the only memory of how I got here and why, the last day of ever being a 6 year old kid, or a kid ever again.
