A/n: I just got this idea on December 9th. How? A dream. Really. It's too bad that my sister ruined my morning so I couldn't remember everything. Oh well, hope you like it.

I sobbed, huddled in one corner of the room. "Mama? Mama! Mama, I'm scared." I whimpered. "Where are you?" No response. I tucked my legs in, yelping as I touched a tender wound. The men took me away. They hurt me. But my family didn't come for me no matter how many times I called for them. Mum promised me as long as I called her name, she would come. But no matter how many times I called for her using her full name, she didn't come. I cried and cried and cried, but no response. There was barely any light. The air felt so dry. No food or water. No comfort. What did I do wrong? Mum always said to do the right thing. That's what I did, right? So why? I don't get it. I'm so confused. "I'm so scared," I whisper in the darkness that threatens to swallow me whole. The men threw me here after 'beating up the runt'. I didn't know what a runt was, but I'm guessing it was me. One of the nicer ones gave me a bit of water, making me feel so much better. For a second before they came back for more. After what I assumed to be hours, they locked me in here. I knew bruises covered my body, but no one came to help me. When I hurt myself, no matter how small, Mum would freak out and fuss over me, doing all sorts of things to help me feel better. I always thought she was embarrassing, especially when she did it in public. Now? I want her to do it. I don't care where so long as she held me in her arms lovingly and big brother tried to cheer me up by doing silly stunts that made our mum have a 'heart attack' whatever it meant. I'm alone. And I'm scared. T- ter- what was the word Mum taught me? Terrified. Yeah, that's the word. I'm terrified. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to- I repeated the words until I fell asleep.