Tiny Step's (MDLG Story.) Slow Updates.

Chapter ONE

[ONE]

Esme Knights (POV)

Counting that is what I do to distract myself and to focus when needed, I have a head space that I go into, but I don't allow myself that relief very often. I wish I could, but I know that if I allow myself I will be more vulnerable then I already am. Living the life I have is hard but not harder than others and then again some of the things I have survived should not be part of someone's life in general. Right now, I am curled in a ball across the street from this really tall skyscraper counting the windows. I do this usually when I cant find food or shelter for the week, day, or night in that regard, I am hiding in an alley by a few dumpsters. Because if I am seen I will be either yelled at or someone will mistake me for a child and call the cops.

Shivering I hold my legs tighter and pull the cardboard box I found more around me as a wind breaker. I have been homeless for the last two years and things have gotten better then worse all over again, like and up and down scale to which I hate. Sniffling I pull my beanie further down on my ears as I get to the third floor of windows before I have to start again knowing I missed a few. Pursing my lips, I whimper I have not eating in three days and the winter weather is just getting worse. Looking around seeing the cars flowing by in blurs of colors and sounds so loud, that I drown them out with my thoughts and the sounds of my stomach growling. As my body is aching from all the pain and loss of nutrition to keep me healthy and going.

I lick my chapped lips, seeing those walking by and I always wonder what their lives are like also wishing I could live better than I am now. I was raised by my mother and father up until they died in a robbery when I was eight. Then I was in the system bounced around from foster home and to group homes until my last few were so bad that I had to get out. I was born with a rare genetic disorder that keeps me from aging and I have been trapped in my six-year-old body since, my parents loved me anyway I remember them telling me every day. But when they died and I was alone those around me saw me as a freak an abnormality I was laughed at, beaten, called offal names and slurs. Along with some people wanting to do things they shouldnt do to children, even those that are aging mentally yet not physically. Now dont get me wrong I had a few good homes but none that wanted to adopt me and by the time I turned sixteen I needed to escape the family I was with. They had been doing offal things to me that caused me to form my head space after I ran away. Before that I was just my normal self-stuck in my body but now, now I am damaged, and I know no one will ever want me in anyway or form. I will never age physically so I will never find a job, love, or partner in the adult since. Then I will never be able to defend myself if I am ever found or taken again since I am so much weaker and fragile now do to not being able to eat regularly or be healthy enough to actually do so.

I wish I was normal but then normal is overrated right I enjoyed my schooling and learning they were the only things that kept me going. But now after being homeless and struggling to survive for the last two years I miss it so much. If I had had a safe place and a chance I would have graduated highschool and maybe even had the chance for college though I know living in the system that was far from possible without a scholar ship or job.

Feeling the cold seeping into my body and bones once again I shiver pulling my torn jacket closed and the cardboard closer as I keep counting the windows of the skyscraper. It is one of my favorites in Chicago especially during the winter time since it helps me ignore the pain my body and mind are going through. I found out last November that it is one of top law firms in the world it made me smile, I have always loved the aspects of the law. Though I am more into learning all I can, rather than one subject I just wish I could have learned more before everything fell apart. When I escaped the family I was with it was my breaking point they were trying to sell me to a man and I had, had enough of their sick ways.