Enjoy my screams

There has always been a storm raging in my life, for as long as I remember. And for as long as I remember, pain has always been a part of it. But I guess growing up in this bleak gang life-style will do that to you. Why can't I leave? Because I am forever bound to this place.

Trapped.

I am trapped within the confines of my father and his gang, with no escape. I am like that of a tiger at a zoo, pacing the cold, unforgiving bars, longing for freedom. Like the captive tiger, I am longing to be set free from my captivity. But I am trapped. Trapped by the cage fear. Trapped behind the bars of my torment.

Abused.

Abuse. One of the many dark things I have known all my life. Abused by my own flesh and blood. Abused by the very gang that tells me I am family. But what real family breaks their own loved ones?

Beaten.

Beaten into submission. Struck down to the point of no return. For they say that one is easier to control once their mind, soul, and body are shattered, are broken.

And that brings me to what I lastly describe myself as.

Broken.

Here I am, lying on the cold, wooden floors of my tiny bedroom, currently curled up on the floor, because there is no bed for comfort. I am desperate to pick up the pieces of my broken life. But how can I do that when my life, which is shattered around me, cuts me like glass every time I try to pick it up and put the pieces back together? You may be asking, "What caused you to be broken?" I will tell you alright.

My name is Dakota, and this is my story.

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