My fingers stroke the soft, plush seats of the mysterious car I'm in. I lost track of time a long time ago and the hours seemed to get shorter and shorter while the red numbers changed on the clock. The car is dark, and I have no clue who is in the driver's seat, taking me away from the home I grew to know- and hate. The only thing I'm aware of in this second of time is we are driving through New York City. I can see the skyscrapers standing high and tall in the dark ember sky. It's a cloudy night tonight- not one star seems to want to show itself. It makes me feel itchy and unsafe because at hard times like this I like to wish upon the first star I see, speaking the rhyme most children like myself know "Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may I wish I might..." then, I would whisper my wish, soft and slow. But there's no escape from this car, no escape from the fate I'm destined to meet. The sad thing is, I've always wanted to go to New York City. Not like this. On a family trip. Not getting taken away in a mysterious car.
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"MOTHER!!! MOTHER!!!" the police cops and are putting their hands around my waist, tightly. It's hurting me. They are practically screaming at me, but I don't listen because I've always been afraid of the words they are saying. "Your mother can't take care of you anymore, sweetie, we are taking you some where safe where you don't have to live in fear anymore!" The police are saying to me. No, no, no, no, no. Yes, my mother drinks every night at a bar and leaves me all alone in our tiny, empty house. Yes, she hits me when she's either drunk or angry. But she is all I have! I am all she has! My father died years ago from being murdered on a dark ally on a business trip. A depressing, violent way to go if you ask me. He was the only lifeline we had. He had the money that would pay for food, clothes, the house. When he left, my mother started drinking and times got darker and darker as I was forced to smuggle cans of soup into my coat pockets at the store just for dinner that night. Bills are piling on the counter in the kitchen, unpaid bills that won't be paid until mother gets a job. I am all she has to survive, and now she's gone, just like my father is. I have no one is this world anymore to love me, to hold me. It's all GONE. Now I'm being shoved into a car and taken away. Away from my child hood, away from my home, away from my life.
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The car slows down and we pull up to an orphanage. "Are we still in New York City?" I asked the driver. He gives a small nod and gets out of the car. He opens my door for me and I finally realize it's time for me to get out of the car that has been suffocating me for hours and hours. Who knows how long. Yes, I have always wanted to live in New York City. But not like this. Not like this at all.
**************
"MOTHER!!! MOTHER!!!" the police cops and are putting their hands around my waist, tightly. It's hurting me. They are practically screaming at me, but I don't listen because I've always been afraid of the words they are saying. "Your mother can't take care of you anymore, sweetie, we are taking you some where safe where you don't have to live in fear anymore!" The police are saying to me. No, no, no, no, no. Yes, my mother drinks every night at a bar and leaves me all alone in our tiny, empty house. Yes, she hits me when she's either drunk or angry. But she is all I have! I am all she has! My father died years ago from being murdered on a dark ally on a business trip. A depressing, violent way to go if you ask me. He was the only lifeline we had. He had the money that would pay for food, clothes, the house. When he left, my mother started drinking and times got darker and darker as I was forced to smuggle cans of soup into my coat pockets at the store just for dinner that night. Bills are piling on the counter in the kitchen, unpaid bills that won't be paid until mother gets a job. I am all she has to survive, and now she's gone, just like my father is. I have no one is this world anymore to love me, to hold me. It's all GONE. Now I'm being shoved into a car and taken away. Away from my child hood, away from my home, away from my life.
******************
The car slows down and we pull up to an orphanage. "Are we still in New York City?" I asked the driver. He gives a small nod and gets out of the car. He opens my door for me and I finally realize it's time for me to get out of the car that has been suffocating me for hours and hours. Who knows how long. Yes, I have always wanted to live in New York City. But not like this. Not like this at all.
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