Living my life

Living my life

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WpMetadataNoticeآخر تحديث: اثنين, يولـ ٦, ٢٠١٥
As the wind blows through the sandy, desertly land,and you see the tall, long headed giraffes. Hello my name is Ashlyn. I am adopted from Africa,Ethiopia, Adidas Ababa. I was adopted when I was just 4 years old I Don't remember much but I remember enough to tell you about my life there.When I lived in Africa it was very hot!!Extremely hot !!!Like me!!!! We live in these houses called Huts.After, I got adopted I cried forever but then I noticed I was with very nice people. Compared to the Huts our house was huge so big I couldn't find my room. I have met some friends who I am very still friends with. I met my friends when I was in about pre-k when I met a friend named Leah. I knew when we met we would be friends for a long time.we were friends for a long time pre-k to sixth grade.my other friends I didn't really meet till I was about in fourth. The friends who I have right now are Jessica, Drew,Melanie ,Devin,Ramsey, Sean, there my friends. What will happen next!!!
جميع الحقوق محفوظة
انضم إلى أكبر مجتمع لرواية القصص في العالماحصل على توصيات قصص مخصّصة، احفظ قصصك المفضلة في مكتبتك، وقم بالتعليق والتصويت لتنمية مجتمعك.
رسم توضيحيّ

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I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.

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