Night after night, day after day, I was left alone in my mom's car. That was my life and it was all I knew. My mom worked multiple jobs, and couldn't be with me while she worked, so I was alone. During breaks, she would visit me and that made me feel like I mattered, but those occasions were few. My mom lived with her boyfriend, but once they broke up, she lived with her parents, and they didn't love me. They didn't even like me.  I would even say that they despised me and I never knew why. I wasn't welcome in their home and they forced my mom to keep me in her car. I lived like that for about two years and, except for when she would come play with me, I felt like I didn't matter. To anyone. I hated staying in my mom's car all day, but the highlight of my week was when I got to see my brother. This didn't happen often (he lived with my mom's ex-boyfriend) but when it did, it was so amazing. My mom's ex-boyfriend liked me, so he would occasionally take my brother and me to the park, where we could run and play. We had so much fun together that in those moments, I felt like I mattered, but then they would take me back to my mom's car and I cried each time we had to say goodbye. I guess I was wrong. I didn't matter to anyone after all.

          Because I was young, my mom assumed I didn't care what I ate. She would put out food for me each morning, but that was all I got for the whole day. It didn't matter. I didn't matter. It was rare that I ate all of my food, because it was gross and dry. I also didn't have fresh water. It didn't matter. I didn't matter. My mom would give me some each morning, but it would get hot as the day wore on. My mom lived and worked in Southern California, so it was always very hot there in her car, even when she parked in the shade. Whenever my mom came out to see me during her breaks, she would tell me how much she loved me. But deep down, I didn't believe it. It didn't feel like I mattered, stuck all alone in her car like that. Everyone who walked by my mom's car made mean faces or scolded me. I cried myself to sleep each night. I felt so alone in the cold, damp, darkness of the night. I didn't matter to anyone. I would often wake up to a loud noise, only to find that it was a bird squawking or a raccoon knocking over a trash can. I would then cry out for my mom, but she never came. Even though she told me how much she loved me, I knew I didn't matter.