Every single day I wake up with violence. There is no peace where I am. I haven't seen peace since before both of my parents died in a car accident. My brother, Jake has cancer and is dying. He was also in the car crash but only ended up with a broken leg. Sometimes , I feel the crash was my fault. I don't know why but I just do. After the crash I was taken to a foster home but my brother wasn't because of his broken leg and right after it healed, he was diagnosed with cancer. In my foster home, I live with 10 other kids and I am the oldest. After 2 weeks living in the house, I realized that this was not a good place at all. I remember my first beating like it was yesterday. I had forgotten to do the dishes in the sink and suddenly the women who owns the place named Isabel but wants us to call her madam takes a whip out of a hidden closet and starts beating me. My eyes were filled with tears but now I'm used to all the beatings since I now get one everyday. Sometimes, I want to kill myself. I have attempted to do it many times but there is still one part of me that actually wants to live and enjoy life. I keep on counting the days until I will graduate high school and runaway from the foster home. Only a month left. Only 30 days of beatings left. Only 30 days until I leave this sick place and I will keep waiting and waiting until the day comes.......
