Who do think you are? by afia islam

Journal of an 18-year old girl who once was a normal person that grew up with loving parents that are constantly fighting. As an oldest child I always felt to take care of my family. Growing up in a neighbor hood where there always peace and quite, felt a guilt of loneness. I see myself looking at the mirror and see a tall girl that has wavy hair with tiny fingers used for sparrow and heart, hope. She was wearing an old T-shirt with cut-down jeans, no make-ups. Eyes that make up the color of a dark storm that is red, ready to scream. Feeling lonely, hearing voices that sounds like yelling, are about to kill each other. Banging at the table until blood rises of my index finger, flowing down with shameless and embracement. Each of the tears going down thought out my face with eyes showing craziness. As walking each step, my heart beats with blood that has no air left to speak. Looking down toward my stepfather in jail, feeling completely lost. Jail, a place where people go crazy and act like maniacs. Stomach growling for hungriness and no food has eaten. Walking away from a man who acts like a fool to be a father. Hearing voices inside her mind that is making her mind go crazy. Wants to get a justice and became a free person with nothing left to say. Putting hands over her mind that may stop the thoughts coming out of her brain. Who says being an adult may sound crazy to me. Stop Stop it! Going outside and seeing my mom looking awful and crying her tears out. She doesn’t see me starting at her face with courage and heart.