I live under the roof of a wolves den. There are two wolves in my house. One is my mother and another is my father. They were like two ferocious wolves after the one animal, fighting, fighting over the one bone, day after day. I felt like I didn’t belong to them. It felt like I was in a different world to them and they really didn’t care for me. I felt very much like an outcast.
Every day that a lived was like a story out of hell. An absolute nightmare. Home is a place where you could run to when you’re in trouble. It just leads me too more trouble. I started calling home, the den. The den was once a peaceful and beautiful place to eat, breathe and sleep but now it’s turned into a torturous place much like hell.
At times of misery I would take camp into my room. The four white walls of my bedroom and my study desk acted as a barrier from the outside world. When my parents fought, they often fought with tears and blood. To block out the horror I would try relaxing techniques such as yoga to calm myself down. But the most effective technique was holding my cross and crying myself to sleep. I would still have nightmares but it was the most effective way of putting me to sleep.
I would walk into school and spend recess and lunch by myself. I was in awe about how all the kids looked like the belonged to the school and they belonged to a group of some sort. I was in awe but I felt like I didn’t belong. I would walk into the library because it’s the only place where I felt safe. I was in awe of books written by Isaac Asimov and Marcus Aurelius which I admired greatly. One quote stood out in my mind greatly by Isaac Asimov.
This quote reads “Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome. This quote has stuck with me because I came to the realization that he is correct in every way. “My transition was bleak”. As I went through the school year I met an interesting person by the name of Cathy.
Cathy was the same age as me and nearly the...