After my traumatic encounter, I found myself feeling hallow. You probably know the feeling; stomach feels empty, constantly tired, the works. It was horrible. The only thing that kept me walking was the off chance that I might find some food, or maybe a warm place to sleep. This hallow feeling was killing me, eating me alive. I kept saying 'man up' or 'quit being a pussy, you gotta survive for your dad and all the people you love'. But slowly, those voices faded, replaced by 'just die, blow your brains out so you never have to wake up again'. The funny thing is, I wanted to. With every fibre of my being I wanted to die. The one thing that saved me was a young, naive little girl. Her family had been killed, and while I was sleeping in her room when I heard the door open. I instinctively reached for my knife when I heard "sorry for waking you up sir, but the closet is really cold". Her voice was soft and innocent, it was the type of voice that only a child could have. "Didn't know anyone was home" I replied in a gruff voice, well as gruff as a 17 year old's voice can get. I started to get up to leave when she piped up again. "You can stay, but you have to let me sleep in the bed" she said in a pouty voice. So I rolled over, and she cuddled into my back. I was shocked. Not because she was there, but because she was still so innocent. The next morning I woke up and she was still curled into my back. I started getting up when I heard a squeak from behind me. The shallow breaths of the child as she stirred awake made me remeber how young I was when I was put into this world, how horrible it was. I dont know what snapped in me that moment, but my heart started aching. I put my arm protectivly around her. 'Whats your name?' I asked her. 'Lizzy' she responded in the sleepy voice of a half awake child. I decided that from that day on that I would protect her with my life. I was so young back then, so naive, so blind.
