Prologue

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"You're the reason for my misery, I wish I didn't bring you out into this world. I wish I listened to my friend's advice. I should have aborted you, but I'd thought if I kept you, your father might come back for you but he didn't. He won't accept a son born from a prostitute mother. He'd rather take care of his child from his legal wife." He could hear his mother laughing bitterly.

His mother's voice ranting in anguish and hurt. She locked herself up in her room. He could not comfort her even if he wanted to. Despite the fact that his own mother did not love him, but he loved her. He is only six years old but he's a human, he has feelings, and what he heard from his mother's mouth penetrated through the very core of his heart and his soul. Slicing every fiber of his flesh. Feeling unwanted, unloved, abandoned.

He never sees his mother's face anymore. She took her own life that day. He cried for his lost. Though she was an evil, she still his mother. Every time she whipped him with her belt, bruises and wounds were imprinted onto his tender flesh; he tried to understand her. He kept thinking he was the root of all her problems and took all the blame.

Now she's gone. No more whipping. He's supposed to be happy because his wounds and bruises would heal but not the wound of his young heart. He's lonely. He loved his mother. He cried longing for the presence of his mother. The rants, the whipping. He still missed her.

"You can't live in here now boy. You can't pay the rent and I need money too." Said the landlord.

"Where will I live?" He asked.

"I called for a HomeGroup to help you find a good place to live." The landlord replied.

"Will it be a better place?" He asked.

"I'm sure it will better than here boy." He replied.

Then moments later, the staff from Home Group came and took him.

Since he had bruises and fresh wounds from his mother's whipping the homegroup brought him to the clinic so that his wounds could be treated.  He is screeching in pain from every damp of the cotton balls with antiseptic alcohol to clean his wounds.  

''Sshh, pain is only for a while, after we put bandages it will be fine. "Said the nurse soothing him.  He just looks up and didn't say a word. 

"We're almost done. " continued the nurse while putting bandages on his shoulder


After the treatment, they brought him to the shelter for orphans.

He was able to make friends with the children who are in his age.

After many months of being in a home group. His bruises were gone, his deep wounds were healing, nonetheless, the scars were still visible on his body. He's still thankful that they're only on his back and not his face. Only a few were on his thighs and right shouldered but could be hidden by his clothing.

He's a handsome boy. Why wouldn't he be? His father, as his mother would describe was a handsome man. He has only seen his photo in his mom's wallet. But when his mother saw him staring at it, she grabbed it and he got a whipping. "Never find him." She shouted at him.

He never dreamed of finding him anyway. He doesn't like him, he doesn't love him, he doesn't need him. So why would he?

The landlord was wrong when he told him that this place was going to be better than his place. When his body was totally healed he started to be mistreated by the kids in the home group, especially the older ones.

He suffered. Physically and emotionally. They bullied him. And beat him if he refused to listen to them. He was thankful if he was sent to a foster family. However, he was not lucky enough to find a family that cared and loved him.

He grew up going from one foster family to another and to another. When he was fourteen he ran away from his foster parents. They were worst.
The family brought him to the countryside and they made him their slave. He works on the farm and they never let him continue his schooling. So he runs away. But where would he go?

He returned to where he grew up. The place where he'll be accepted. To his mother's world.

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