Sold to a gang leader

15. He Is Gone.

He was gone now. I knew hat his plane left at eleven fifteen in the morning. It was eleven thirty now. He was gone. Far gone. Leaving me in the house with Josh, Alfesto, and Sean. Well, there was Eleanor, but she was gone out this morning. Which meant I was alone.

I sat down by the side of the bed. I let my head fall onto the mattress and I thought for a bit. I always noticed that my mind could wander. One minute I'll be thinking about what I'm going to wear, the next I'll be thinking about a Mount Everest expedition. I honestly don't know where I'll end up in my mind, and that's the beauty of it.

Beauty. Hmmm, there are many different ways to discovery beauty. Even though whenever some asks you about beauty, your mind automatically goes to appearance. No matter what you say, it's true. But when you really think about it, beauty isn't just on the outside its on the inside. The most gorgeous people are the ones with the best personality. What's on the inside in the thing that counts.

People who are beautiful on the outside, can be just as nice too. Everyone is beautiful in their own way. However, don't judge a book by its cover. Someone could be rotten to the core on the inside, you just need to look at it a little closer.

Looking closer. That reminds me of something I read online once. You see, I was a very quiet kid, and I would NEVEE pick up for myself. One day, I remember in particular, there was this girl named Veronica. Everyone called her Ronnie. She was real mean, she said I was quiet, because very thing I said I'd stupid. So I was saving myself the trouble. She was underestimating me, and I hated it.

I remember feeling the anger build inside me. So I told her the exact words I had read online as a comeback.

"Don't underestimate me
Because I am quiet.
I know more than I say,
Think more than I speak,
And observe more than you
Know."

She looked at me as if I hadn't spoke in years. She backed away from me, then fled without another word. Everyone looked at me. Some whispered while others smiled at me. One girl, she was a little shorter than me. She looked at me and said, "you are the first person to ever talk back at her. Wow.... Your cool." Then she left.

I was six. That was it.... Six. I remember when I left the classroom, I felt so much pride.

Pride....

Of course. Only a year later mom and dad had passed. Then I was forced to move in with aunt and uncle. I thought at that moment that everything would be okay, but it wasn't. And i could no longer find that bold person that once lived inside me. I turned into a baby, a cryer, a pushover.

Nothing turned out okay in that house. I was home schooled then. Never to see anyone in my school ever again. Home schooling sucked. It was taught by bother aunt and uncle, except you had to call them Me, and Mrs. I forgot that sometimes, and got hit with a ruler because of it.

If I got something wrong, or did bad on any piece of work....yep, you've guessed it, I was beaten. Beaten until I got it right. I think aunt and uncle really enjoyed beating me, because they would give me work that was one or two grades above my level. Trust me, it was a hard adjustment, but you get used to it. Especially when all you can do is think about the subject in your mind the entire day. Or when they were hitting you, constantly repeating what you got wrong mans what the RIGHT answer was.

You get used to the whole grade thing, the pain from the beatings is something that you can't really get used to. I would still scream and cry now if they beat me, and that means I'm not prone to the pain. I was used to the beatings, but never the pain. Each day it hurt
More and more. It burns inside of me.