cold and alone I sit crying my palms drenched in my tears. just a few days ago I was a normal 12 year old attending st. Andes high school in kingston, Jamaica but that all changed when he came back... this he I'm referring to is my step father who had left us three years ago to live with our mentally unstable mom who had suffered three years of brutal abuse in her previous marriage. we all thought he would have helped ... we thought he would have gotten mom back up on her feet ... filled in the space of our dad. but we were wrong. we had opened the door to a cold hearted drug addict who stopped at nothing to get what he wanted and if he wasn't being hunted for by the police he was doing what he would often to refer to 'just business' and what I translated into cold hearted murder. *BEEP * *BEEP* my alarm clock rang. it was seven thirty, monday morning my eyes flickered opened followed by a long slow yawn I jumped out of bed and started my day with my daily food search.All Rights Reserved
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