Angie and I fought over a lot of things. One of the main ones was food. You see I've always struggled with food. I eat to fill the void, some people do drugs, some people drink, me I eat. Food feeds your soul, and my soul has always had a big hole. Angie didn't care what I ate, or how much, but you see the social workers did. It's apparently not healthy for a kid to eat the things I like to eat. And when someone with power threatened to take me away, Angie got serious. Angie started making me do more things. She said it was to help me but it wasn't. It was so she wouldn't have to do it. I was Angie's doll, whatever she wanted me to do I did it. Or she sicked her husband on me, or worse put me somewhere.
There were times where I pyscically hurt to fill the void and I'd claw at my chest in my dark room that I was forced to call my bedroom. Eventually crying myself to sleep.
