Age 12:

I was twelve years old and I knew I wasn’t a kid anymore.

Walking into my home I saw an alcoholic pouring tears on the floor.

This woman didn’t feel kin to me anymore.

She was lost within herself,

her ways,

and the bottle I knew she could never escape.

I didn’t know who she was.

Nor did she.

Everyday with her was a new threat and you never knew what you should expect.

Another day, another threat,

I walked down the stairs to see her holding a knife to her neck.

She plead and she screamed “I’ll end it, right here, for all to see.” This was death and it was happening right in front of me.

My eyes filled with tears and nobody did a thing. She turned the knife on others including me...

She threatened our lives.I knew in that instant I was not a kid, because if I was I wouldn’t make it out alive.

I was too scared of death to be a kid. When you are a kid you should feel as if you could live forever.

In my “home” you lived each day by day. I knew I couldn’t be a kid because I never knew if this would be my last day.

I had to grow up because death lived in my house.

I had to grow up and keep myself safe.

The young,

The weak, and those that were tinder were not built to live in this place.

This was not a home and this was no place for a kid to feel safe.