In order to live one must learn to forgive. Sometimes it is the only thing that will allow us to continue on. So I decided even though I felt the world had wronged me I needed peace. Suicide had entered my mind on more than one occasion. I had even played out the role and have the scares to prove it. It haunts me as a daily reminder. It might be the thing that puts me in my grave. Time has faded them and the memories but they are all a part of me that will never go away. I wanted someone to hear my story to hear my cry. No longer for help, I am beyond that. I live my life for one purpose my children. God gave me my first, 17 years ago, she saved my life. She kept me alive when no other was worth living for. I grew up and learned. Many asked to adopt to take her from me, nothing more than a child myself. Offers of money, came but none greater than the love I felt for this child growing inside of me. I needed her and wanted her more than anything. I took beatings on a weekly basis out of stupidity, from a woman who promised me love. I went to the hospital beaten an broken more times than I can count and yet through them all I protected this little person inside of me. Where she came from or how she got inside of me was no longer important to me, all that mattered is she was mine and I would love her no matter what, nothing would ever change that and nothing has. I never had a mother, not one to love me and hold me and care for me. Not one to make me feel safe inside. I ache inside as everyday passes and I think of the children so much like myself that are in this world feeling the things I felt. I think I wrote and am writing my story for all those who read to open there eyes and see the children who need them. No child should ever be discarded like I, not one time but several times over and over. To feel unworthy of love is hard. I was a lucky one, I escaped, but I live with my past everyday. I think it makes me who I am. It makes me what I am not. It makes me what I will never be.