The night was cold, in a way were my fingers felt like falling off and my nose like ice on my face. I stared at my surroundings once again. The dirt and darkness clouding the space. The scene in front of me was not a good display, not taking into account the way rats walked touching my legs or the smell in the air. It was just the way I looked and the loneliness I was feeling. The extreme and uncontrolable anger and sadness inside me. The reality of a horrible and despicable life, the one that no one deserves but still I had. So I just sat there, trying to erase my memory and avoiding to think how my own mother simply did not care.

Suddenly but not really surprising I felt the unmistacable flowing tears running down my cheeks, carefully falling to my mouth and neck; describing the sorrow I had inside. I could still see my mothers face when she cutted my hair for cleaning the wrong way. I could still see the face on my uncle´s face, like he would do anything to get what he wanted. I could still see the way my grandmother denied what I said, and chose not to believe me.   It´s true truth hits hard, but denying it is most certainly not the way.
I could not go to my house, throwned out. I could not go to my grandma´s, my uncle was there. She did not believe me. I have nowhere. Nowehere, but this subway station where I´d laid a blanket on the ground. I would not sleep tonight. Not with the smell, not with the rats, not with the subway station itself; but darnkess kept me safe, enveloped me strongly, so that no one would find me.
My brain failed to avoid the memories I´d tried to keep out. So clear, so horrific.
Flashback
I was cleaning the kitchen before my mom came. It was a mess. She was a mess. I can only wish for the day I leave this place and live better. I don´t blame her though, she has a rough past and story; but I do not deserve this.
I heard the door open, followed by a loud bang. The unmistakable sound of a bad day. The sound always came first. Followed my the smell of pure bad scotch and the shouts and screams that made me wonder how no one in the neighborhood called the police.
I froze and waited for the odor to hit. It did, and strong. "Kristal!" she shouted and stormed into the kitchen with an angry face and fire clouded her eyes. I hold myself of crying. that would made things worst. "You are pathetic. You ruined my life. You have the fault of every bad thing that has happened to me. I wish you were never born. I wish you would die." This was the marked speech, she has said it at least a thousand times in the past sixteen years and it never brought good things. Shr¡e grabbed me hard by my arm with her long nails. I wanted to scream, but I kept my mouth shut; containing the pain her nails were causing by perforing my skin.
She grabbed a scissor.
A scissor.
With that thought I could not hold it, and tears flowed down. She is cutting my hair. She is trying to make me look like him. Like him. Like him. I supressed a sob and thought to myself that its going to grow again.
As predicted she hardly began to cut my hair, digging the scissor hard into my flesh and slicing it open in someplaces. I screamed. I cried. No one listened. No one moved.
After she was done I ran out; like I always did. Grabbed the basics and left to my grandmothers house for a week. She would come back. She would say she was sorry and it wont happen again. It would last for a couple days, then she is gone again.
I did not expect the rest of my day. I did expect my mom´s drunkness; maybe even the haircut. I did not expect what comes next.
When I arrived my granny´s house, no one was there except of my uncle. I walked to him and sayed hi. He asked me to help him with carrying some stuff from his room into his car.
My uncle´s room was really small, and basic. The life style he wanted fpr himself was never granted and eneded up living with his mother and unmarried. I looked around and found the boxes he told me early about. I was about to walk when the door closed loudly behind me. I turned around, confused to see my uncle with a look in his face I couldn´t describe other than malice. He walked closer and I took a step back, but he is stronger and faster and catched my arms and waist harshly. His hands wander to my tights and then harshly deeper into my private part. I scream and push him; but she silence my shouts with his mouth and I´m rougly thrown to the bed, him straddleing me. I try to kick and kick but he is too strong. He begis to unzipper his pants and with another hand takes out my underwear from under my skirt. My words and screams are choked by my throat closing because Im supressing the urge to cry. He tores my shirt away and massages my breast roughly, scraping them in the process. I finally scream and cry, but Im covered by a pillow, muffling my sounds and keeping me from seeing. Then I feel him enter and it hurts. He goes deep, fast and hard. It is not how people describe it. It hurst and I cry and I try to kick him and move but he sets me in place. I scream but again, no one hears. Suddenly it stops, and I feel the weight on me lighten and I hear footsteps and the door opening "Not a word." he says and leaves.
It hurts to move. It hurts to walk. My face is swallowed and my eyes are red and puffy. I cry, it does not stop.
He raped me. My own uncle raped me.
Finally I hear my grandma come in. "Not a word." But I still spill it to her. I still say it out loud and risk it. She does not believe me. She thinks I am looking for attention and throws me out

I look again at the subway station. I feel dirty and used; but most of all I feel empty. Darkness envelopes me.