I enjoyed school, it's not as if I had friends waiting for me. No, quite the opposite. The adults would always stare at my bandages with pity and the kids would always make fun of them. They also didn't like how I never looked at them, how I always had my eyes closed most of the time and how I never said anything. The teacher and students had also started to get annoyed at my lack of speech. That's when a kind teacher came up to me and started to teach me to sign. She was impressed on how fast I learned. She would even pat my head at times and sneak a few treats for me to take home. I loved those days the most.

She didn't stay long, unfortunately. In 3rd grade I did have one friend. She was kind, just like that one teacher. She never mined being around me. She would always find me and talk about the smallest things. One time she even told me that she was glad I listened to her and that I did not call her annoying like everyone else did. Even if I never said anything back. But soon she too had left me. For everyone started to pick on her as well for hanging out with me. They even told her they would let her be their friend if she did something for them. Which in turned out to be something involving me. At first the kids would only snicker and point at me, seeing how their action didn't create any response from me, they decided to do more. My 'friend' went to the woods near by and brought something for me; in my desk was a dead bird. Some students screamed, most of them laughed. I was glad that my friend had people to talk to after that day. But I wondered, as I held on to the small dead animal in my hand, why did it have to die for her happiness? I cupped the poor creature and left the classroom. I ran to the woods behind the school and buried the small bird. When I came back, I was caught by one of the teachers; I was covered in dirt and blood. The teacher was so disturbed by my state that she called mother. Mother was not happy. After apologizing to the teachers for having such a misbehaved child, she took me home. She didn't scream, she didn't yell, as she drove me home. She didn't do anything.

The next day, when I left for school, she had not left her room. When I got back, all of my things were gone. My room was empty. Mother had sold the small amount of the items I had."You think little pieces of shit deserves a room?" she was standing behind me, when she said this. She took my backpack from me and dragged my body to the door that led to the basement. "Shit like you don't deserve to get anything!" she threw my body down the stairs. She then closed the door and left me there. I was hurt, cold and alone. The basement was large and had a moldy smell. There was a worn out mattress I would use to sleep on and a couple of worn out sheets I would use to keep myself warm. I never left that room, only to go to school. Although I was alone at school, even though some kids would torment me, I still enjoyed it. For one, I wasn't near my parents and two, the cafeteria was regulated to provide free meals to their students. My parents had stopped feeding me at some point, that's when I took advantage of the school. They would always serve packed snacks with your meal, I always managed to hide them in my bag. For when the weekend came, I would always have something to eat. I once tried to sneak some food from the kitchen, just once. She had caught me digging food from the trashcan. I was punished for that, she turned on the oven and placed my hand over it. I never looked for food in the house again after that.

Summer was the hardest for me. For I had to save what little food I had collected to make it last. But the hunger was not what made it hard to bare. Staying at home had caused my mother to lash out more. But that still did not make it hard for me to live throughout summer. For living in an underground basement had given my father an idea. He had started to bring over his friends to join... our alone time. I hated those nights the most. At first they had only watched. Next they brought in cameras, then they started to join. During the whole time, I did not cry and I did not beg. They would never have stopped if I did.

With the countless torment from home and at school, I still found things to enjoy. Being alone, I found that I very much liked drawing. I would draw every chance I could at school. Until the teachers called my mother for not paying attention in class. Mother had tied my hands to the end of the dinning table and started striking them with one of father's belts till they bled. I stopped drawing after that.

During music class I would sing. It was the only time I ever talked. The teacher loved my voice. He would always praise me, but it only gave the students more reasons to hate me. One day a couple of students dragged me the bathroom, stuffed my mouth with dirty toilet paper and dunked my head inside the toilet. They laughed as I started to gag. I had also stopped singing after that.

The only thing I had left, was dancing. My parents would throw parties for their friends and co-workers every week. During those times, hidden away in the basement, I would dance to whatever music that they played. No one ever found out. If they played it loud enough, I would sometime sing along. I enjoyed those nights the most. Even with everything that was going on with my life, I still mange to find something to smile about. I was determined to live my life. Until that small freedom I had was taken away from me.

My mother had found something, a phone number. She sounded so happy when she talked about this phone number. "Piece of shit, do you know what I have in my hand? It's the answer to my whole problem!" She said to me as she waved a piece of paper around. "This number would keep him from leaving me and in the same time, it will get rid of you!" It would seem that the number she had found belonged to a hidden lab. This lab was founded by a mysterious rich benefactor, who had enough power and money to 'convince' my father to no longer leave mother and to set them for life. All in exchange for one thing. Me.

This hidden and mysterious facility was 'gathering' children of diffrent ages. All they needed was one more, an eight year old child. It was in the middle of the night when they came for me. I was allowed to take one item. So I grabbed my favorite sweater. It was my favorite beacuse it was the only thing I had that was from my grandmother, it was colorful warm and soft. Two men in uniform took my hands and seated me in the back of their black car. As I looked out of the window, I saw my mother's first true smile.

The car ride was long, I could remember falling asleep at one point. It was morning when I woke up, we just arrived. When I got out of the car, I saw a large foreboding school building, with fences lined with barbed wire surrounding it. The men in uniform then proceeded to place their hands on my shoulder, "This will be your new home." As they said this, I knew I had to stay determined.