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It's been five years now and life hasn't got any better. Doubled my hustle but things never get any better. Life hasn't been any fair to me". I said to myself at the corner of the street just behind d waste bin and other litters. A drop of tear threatening to drop but I used my pinkie finger to touch up d corner of my eyes drying off the tears.

It all started five years ago in a lovely and peaceful apartment in Los Angeles, southern California.

"Goodnight Mum, goodnight Dad" I remember vividly I greeted my parents with a hug before going to bed. Only for me to hear a loud bang and a sudden this like someone dropped to the floor.

Fear gripped me at that point as I heard a scream which sounded like my mum's and then shuffling of feet and then muffled groans and then whimper.

I was pretty young but I knew when something was wrong.

I quietly stood up from bed, opened my room door quietly and then sneaked down the stairs shivering. I stopped dead in track noticing some guys all dressed in black with guns on their hand gripping my mother with her mouth covered with a white cloth which explains the muffles.

Where was father? I thought to myself. Why isn't he here to save mum? I said again, now tears flowing freely from my eyes and there followed with a whimper. I immediately placed my two hands on my mouth to prevent my sob from coming out loud.

Just then another bang rang out only for me to see my mother still on the floor with blood gushing out of her head. It was then I understood wat the first bang was about.

I was just about to scream out loud, curse them but something prevented me. It was shock. I was frozen , numb.

Just when I came back to my senses I realized the bad guys who killed my parents were looking around, probably searching for another prey.

I immediately moved back slowly, my eyes still fixed on them before entering back into my room and sneaking out through the window. I ran faster than any 10 yr old boy would run in this life. I ran with tears streaming down my eyes. I ran with everything in me. I ran with the purpose of coming back for justice.

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I ran to anywhere my leg led me. Down into the bush before I finally collapsed on a bush close to the Hemingway bridge where I took a rest, pulling my hair, rolling on the bush and crying till I could cry no more. My parents were dead, leaving me alone in this wicked world to fend for myself.

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Now I'm fifteen and still living a messed up life. From being bullied by thugs down to being starved, working and being cheated. "Is this life?!" I keep asking myself.

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My home for thought now is just behind this hip of dirt where no one can notice me and I cry all night.

I've tried to take my life a million times when I hear a voice tell me "Patrick, you are as good as dead . No one in this world cares about you and you will live on the street for the rest of your life. you good for nothing bitch" but just after that I see the picture of my parents being brutally murdered and all I seek is justice.

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It's the only reason I'm living. It's the only reason I'm still moving.

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