Sibling on the streets

So, my name is Stella Ashley Clifford.

And my family abandoned me to support my brothers career path.

Sounds ridiculous i know and it may take some explaining, but i'll try my best.

So i was born in Sydney Australia on the 15th August 1997 making me 16 years old.

When i was 9 years old my parents decided that they wanted to live on the road and eventually look for a new place to settle down.

I was 9 at the time and my brother was 11 so while they sold the house and got everything set up, so that we had some stability, me and my brother were put into temporary foster care, and my parents swore they would come back for us, and they half kept their promise, they came back for him, they 'saw the money making potential' in his already developing musical talent, and left me behind.

2 years later the care home i was currently situated in started turning even more hellish, a place of torture and child slavery almost, we were beaten, made to do work that no 11 year old should be made to do....

So i escaped to the streets

I know this is a lot of information to take in. So you gotta be patient.

For some reason unbeknown to me, a group of homeless people took me in, looked after me, and taught me the ways of the hobo life, but then about a year into things i began to realise they weren't good people, they did drugs, sent me on jobs to pick up 'packages' from other people just like them, what cop is gunna suspect a little girl right? And by age 12 they had me smoking, it was a substitute for food, i pick pocketed like an Oliver reject and sold on anything valuable

Until the day i was saved:

a boy, for some very unwise reason, decided to take a detour down the dark alley we all lived, he should have known better, within minutes he was tackled to the floor with a knife to his throat, i just observed, not quite sure what to do with myself, he looked a few years older than me, and before he was killed, his gaze met mine and i found myself screaming for the people who raised me out here to stop, to spare him, i kicked and slapped them, to this day i dont know why: well, i tell myself that, the real reason was because he reminded me of my brother who had left me those years ago, i know this wasn't his fault, he was 11 after all.

But the boy in the alley wasn't my brother. But he would be soon.

His name was Connor