I didn't talk much to anyone. I had my select friends that I'd talk to but mostly I stayed quiet. Thats one thing I learned after that night so many years ago. I remember it like it was just yesterday that I watched my mom get skinned alive, burnt to a black crisp before the drug dealer let his dogs rip her a part, as if they hadn't eatin in weeks. They looked like it too, so I couldn't blame the dogs. The men on the other hand that were holding me in my spot, maing me watch everything that happened to my poor mother. At the time I hadn't believed that she deserved it, but much later, once I recieved a letter from the man that killed my mother, I learned that she owned him money and also stole drugs from him multipule times.

Never should a six year old witness that. Or grow up without their parents. I have no clue were my father is. Or if he's even still alive. I guess that doesn't help much anyways. I wouldn't leave with him if he came to get me. I had Violet and Brandy to keep me from going insane, along with my beloved Ipod, and thats all I need.

I laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I never slept while at night unless I had my music and my Ipod had died some hours ago. Sighing, I rolled over, pulling the teddy bear my mother had given me closer to my body as I tired to fall asleep, singing a song in my head, hoping it would work. Finally giving up I desided it was just going to be a rather sleepless night. Looking over at the clock I groaned as it read 6 am. I still had a couple hours before anyone else was awake.

Throwing the covers off of my pj clad body, I climbed out of bed, grabbing my sketch pad and made my way outside and to the tree that was at the furthest corner of the property. Plopping down in my usual spot, I opened up the sketch pad and started drawing away.