“What do you mean not everyone?” I asked her. She took a deep breath and sighed.

“My ex-father. He doesn’t deserve any second chance. I don’t even know why God still let him live until now,” She said while looking at the view.

“What happen?”

“You know, classic story. He was rich back then and my mom was just a regular citizen. Everything was fine until one day; he suddenly started to abuse me, my brother and my mom. He didn’t abuse me and my brother physically; he just called us unwanted child or useless kids. But he abused her physically and mentally. He would call her gold-digger, , useless.

Every night when he got home, he would search for my mom and slap her, punch her, kick her and the worst was when he cut my mom’s arm with a cutter. Again and again. We could hear her screaming and my father was yelling something to her. I don’t remember what.

The next day when he was working, me and my brother took the initiative to save our mother from that monster. I thought she would refuse and ask us not to worry. But she was thinking the same thing with us. So we left the house, only bringing some clothes, foods and money, just enough for us to survive for three days? Yeah, after we ran out of money, we started living like a hobo. Sleeping on the side of the street, eating the foods people gave us out of pity,”

She lowered her head and I could see she was holding her tears. I rubbed her back and she smiled, sniffling a bit and took another deep breath.

“Until one day, a generous man woke us up at the alley we were sleeping. He asked us about our backgrounds and asked about our ages. I was 12 and my brother was 10. The next thing we know, me and my brother went back to a new school and my mom worked as a maid for him. I don’t know how all of sudden they were married.

My new dad, was upside down with my ex-father. He took care of us, he make sure we eat healthy foods, wearing nice clothes, studying well. He always asked us what we’d like to do, what are our hobbies, our passion,”