Secret Fighter

Chapter 20: Her Past on a Sunday

Next Day: Sunday 

Cassandra's POV

(Get ready to cry, well maybe)

Surprise Surprise !!!!!!!!

I woke up in the morning at 5:17 and I carefully got off the bed trying to not make any noise. I usually wake up at 5 in the morning because of habit. While living on the streets you could only get so much sleep. A child especially has to make sure they don't stay in the same place for too long. People say that there are some people who like to take children away and give them to new parents.

 BUT I DON'T WANT NEW PARENTS!!! 

So every time they sent me to a new house I gave a lot of problems until one day I ran away from the final one and somehow found myself in Golden City. I don't want to leave.

Reality ~~~~

I went out the door and into the bathroom. While using the bathroom I decided to take a shower the same Time but because I didn't have my clothes with me, I washed my hands when I was done and went into Aunty Lidia's room.

I got the clothes and went back into the bathroom. I started to shower and then I started remembering how my life has changed so much in a few days. AND then the tears started. 

I started crying and crying and crying. I wanted to scream but I tried holding it in because I didn't want to wake anyone up but soon, I couldn't keep them in. And I screamed while biting my hand trying to muffle the sound. 

Soon they got louder and I knew that if I didn't hurry then someone would come in the bathroom and check if I was okay so I ran out the shower and bolted the door. I ran back in the shower after containing myself for a few seconds. 

I tried to think of happy things but my happy days are countable on one of my hands. I began to remember all the days of weird men and women I stayed with, looking at me strangely and all I could do was run and hide.

 I remember the days where I was cursed at, and thrown hateful words towards. I remember seeing homeless people like me getting mugged, beaten, stabbed and hurt even though we are already being hurt.

 I remember the days when I didn't eat, my stomach was in pain because I was hungry.  I remember the days where I had to steal food in the markets and supermarkets.

 I remember the days where I would get beatings for stealing if I got caught barely escaping some people from a place I heard that is called child services. 

I screamed remembering how hated I was by this world, I cried barely remembering the peaceful life my parents and I lived. I fell on the floor screaming and dragging my hair recalling the days where I understood what people meant by feeling like they were about to die. I screamed. I cried. And I got brave. 

I got brave remembering the times I used to pass by tv stores seeing children my age and older on the tv crying over not getting what they wanted or when they would cry if they fell on the ground.

 I have fallen a lot, but I always got up. I started getting used to what pain is and my body and mind began to only see it as something normal.

 I got brave remembering how I had to listen and observe my surroundings if I wanted to live. I got brave knowing I survived.  I got brave knowing that I'm strong for my age. I got brave knowing I now have people who made me laugh. 

 I got brave knowing there are people who feed me and give me a home. I got brave knowing that there is a Man who I learnt is always watching over me from my days finding myself continuously at a church. I got brave.

I got BRAVE knowing I SURVIVED. I know I survived. 

Soon after, my screaming and crying stopped. I then realized I'm a child, I'm Brave and I am a survivor.