Flashback.
Two weeks after I left home, and wandered around the jungle of New York, posters, advertisements, and the front page of the newspaper showed my face. They said I was missing, that whoever could find me, will get a reward. A lot of people tried, some called saying that I was living with them, and others got interviewed in the daily news saying that I left the U.S. Others say that I jumped of the Brooklyn Bridge because I was living a miserable life.
Throughout those times, I wondered around and my first stop was Bronx. This was a historical place in the 1970’s. This was a place of poverty, high rated crimes, fires, and so many more. My parents said that they hated the place but, for me it was a place of comfort, a place where all the people didn’t know who I was or what type of parents I had. They welcomed me whole heartedly and once every two days id’ transfer homes and, live with different families with different lifestyles. When I was a bit older, I had to bid Bronx farewell because the families I once lived with were now gone. After three months had past I wasn’t the one plastered on the front page of the newspaper anymore, my parents stopped looking for me. My family gave up on me, and they continued on with their lives like nothing ever happened, like they never had a daughter-they never had me.
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Sorry Guys it quiet short but, please leave a comment and vote :) hope you guys will enjoy reading it
