I remember when I went to Center, I think it was while I was a Sophomore, my Mama found this kitten that had been tortured and she brought him to me.

He was literally a baby. And someone beat him and he was paralyzed.

I stopped everything to try to heal him. I didn’t go to games or nothing. I just would come straight home, change his diaper, bottle feed him.

Every morning I would wake up, change his diaper, bottle feed him and make him comfortable.

I made him a pillow and stiched his name on it. I named him Lucky.

I begged my Grandma for Money to take him to the Vet. She wasn’t having it at all lol. (I’m not mad about it.) She told me something real she said baby would you want to survive in all that pain? Never to walk again.

Sighs…. idk, idk. Is what I said. I just wanted him to have a chance to get better again.

Well I came home one day and Lucky was gone. Just his little pillow. I cried like he was my child.

I was a different kind of kid. I was this seemingly hard outer shell by day but at home I was me, lost in my own thoughts. Reading, writing, creating. Doing my own thing. Feeling everything. Shutting the world out because it was way too loud.

Now I just am who I am.

Soft and hard as needed. No longer closing the world out.

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