Before I was put in here my responsibility was to take care of my siblings. I had one sister and three brothers. My job was to look after them and my mother.
My mother. She's sick.
That's why she put me in here. She doesn't realize that she made a mistake. I'm sure she will think about it and she'll get me out of here!
I just need to wait. I need to be a good girl and wait.
I know I'll be ok. What I don't know is how my siblings are doing. I've been in here for a month now.
Are they going to school? Are they being fed? Is my mother being fed?
My mother was never meant to be a mother. She doesn't have the mental capacity to raise children. She doesn't even know how to take care of herself!
It's all his fault!
He's the one that gave her that white powder, and that needle. He's the one who told her to make money. My mother never finished high school. She made money the only way she knew how to.
By selling herself and thieving.
After those men leave she closes the door and grabs a ribbon and injects herself with a needle. When she does this she doesn't move. It's like she's asleep even though her eyes are open. Sometimes it only lasts a few hours but most of the time she doesn't move for days.
I am the only reason why she's still alive. I would give her food and spoon feed her. I would get a sippy cup and fill it up with water and hold it for her while she drank. I would throw away the needles, powder, ribbons, bottles of liquor, and anything else I knew was bad for her.
It didn't matter.
He would give her more.
When he would see me throw the bad stuff away, he would hit me and my body would have welps and cuts.
I didn't care. I knew what he was doing was wrong. I thought to myself if he's not going to help her then I will.
