Life is hard

Mum and John

I was born in Atlanta, America. My mum was 16 when she had me. Her life was harsh. Mum ran away from home with her boyfriend at 14 but didn't know that her "boyfriend" was a abusive guy. He would beat her up. Force her to have s3x with him and take drugs.
When mum realised she was pregnant with me, she knew it wasn't a good environment for me to be born with a abusive man around, so she ran away.
I was born at a subway station. Mum had birth to me all by herself. No one heard her screams. Mum was all alone and didn't have anything.
One day in the subway, a man called John saw my mum and me and took us. He gave us food and water and let us stay with him until my mum had enough money to buy a home for us.
I was 1 and a half at the time but a clearly remember the horrific night on the 13th of August:
We were at John's house and we were in the living room. I was sound asleep in my mother's arm on the couch. I was woken up by the buzzing pain in my head. It was dark and I couldn't see anything, all I saw was a dark figure that was repeatedly beating me with a piece of wood. I screamed and screamed - the pain was unbelievable. I was shouting "help" and screaming "please stop."
The figure dropped the piece of wood. Now is the chance to run. I got off the couch, I realised I wasn't in my mothers arms and I don't know where she went. I ran to the kitchen and I tripped. The figure caught up - maybe because I was only 1 and a half at the time. My eyes adjusted and now there were two figures with a piece of wood in each hand.

Mum and John.