A year ago, something terrible happened. Something that was the first link in the chain of destruction that is called my life. 

My Father. 

He was a brutal man. He drank a lot. I still have some shards of glass buried deep in my skin from when he'd smash bottles against me during his fits of rage. And there were a lot of those.

He had hit, punched, kicked, spat on, degraded, hurt and traumatized my Mother ever since I was born. But she herself was an angel of a woman. She always tried her best, and she was so, so sweet to me.

A year ago, my Mother got fed up with the treatment from my father. She was leaning over the edge of a cliff with only a thinning rope holding her. And that night, a year ago, is when that damn rope snapped.

She had told me, "I did it for us, honey. I did it so we could live again." I believe her, but I think seeing my abusive Dad being chopped up 15 times (once for every year) by my Mother who looked like she had truly broken did something to me.

I don't even remember what else happened that day. One moment I was sitting in the corner of the small bathroom listening to the agonizing screams of my Father being butchered with a meat cleaver with my head buried in my knees, and the next, my Mother was being dragged away by cops.

I ran. At least, I think I did. I remember it being cold, but the stars were out , they were shining so brightly. It was so peaceful that it was unbelievably fucking ironic. That was probably the worst night of my life and the stars were shining without a care in the world.

I also remember throwing up a few times. I don't remember where I was going, but I did end up on the very same roof that I stand on now with my younger brothers. Not biological of course, I'm an only child. But really, what does blood matter when I care for them enough they're like family? More accurately, they are family, they're all I have now and I care for them deeply.

 I didn't like this roof at first. The stars were too close to my head and I felt jealous about how nice the sky looked.

I remember looking over the edge. I wasn't thinking about jumping, oh no, no. I was thinking about how selfish it was to run away when my mother was being dragged to the end of her life.

But I didn't want to go back home. Not yet. So I slept on the cold roof, and decided to visit my mother in the morning.

=

I remember that the next morning, I was hungry. And my head hurt. And I was cold. And I was sad. And angry. I felt a lot of emotions the next day as you could probably expect.

First things first, though. I left the roof of the old office building which I would come back to later, but not right now. Right now, or right then, rather, I made my way to the nearest police station. That had  to be where my mother was being held.

I thought I smelt like blood and vomit and despair, but when I passed people, they didn't seem to notice. So either I smelt fine, or they didn't want to be rude within my line of sight.

From a third person perspective, seeing a teenager oh-so-casually waltz into a police station would probably make you do a double take.

People should mind their own business.

As politely and calmly as I could, I asked the man at the front desk where my mother was. I told him her name, Li Yuzi, and who she was to me. He said that she was in a cell for questioning, and wouldn't be getting out anytime soon.

I asked to see her. He said no.

So, as politely and calmly as I could, I reached across the desk and grabbed him by the collar. I brought his sweaty and unshaven face close to mine and whispered that if he didn't take me to my mom, I'd go there myself.

Apparently, 15 year olds aren't threatening. But I can be. I had to be. I have to be, especially now.

Something happened after that. I let go of the man at some point, but I remember my wrists hurting, so I was probably forced off of him.

I don't know why my memory of back then is so foggy. But then again, I try to forget everything from my past life. It was shitty, and it makes me feel shitty, so it makes sense that my memories are choppy.

One thing led to another, and I was on the doorstep of my Grandmother's house. A nice old woman named Daiyu. She was always sweet to me, and thankfully, she's related to me from my Mother's side. I didn't want to see anyone related to my Father, they probably wouldn't help me anyway.

Some words were exchanged and I lived at her house for a while. But it really wasn't that long.

I gave up on school, seeing that my accomplishments during class and extracurriculars were pointless if my parents weren't there to congratulate me. I didn't talk to my grandmother a lot. Was that selfish of me?

I hope not.

I didn't spend too much time at her house, either. I was out looking for my mother. I went to the police station every day and tried to get to the cells where she should've been.

One time I punched the police officer and was placed on house arrest for a little bit.

I was very sour around everyone as the days went by. And it only got worse when my Grandmother kicked me out after only two month.

She said, "You bring too much negative into my home. I respect you, but I will never respect that."

I continued to go to the police station every day to search for my mom. I slept on the roof of the office building most nights, and got minimal food during the day. My allowance savings were large, but not large enough for 3 meals a day.

Finally, one day, when I entered the police office, I was allowed to visit my mom. I was taken to a room with those little jail phone booths.

She looked the same, but she looked tired. It was nice talking to her. She told me about her possible life sentence that day. I remember saying everything would be okay.

I lied.

I didn't visit her again after that. She told me not to. She wanted me to bloom, and go live with Grandmother until college.

I never told her I was kicked out? Hm. That's a shame.

But it must have been for the better. I didn't need her to worry about me. I still think about her. A lot. I miss her. But deep down, I'm also very upset with her.

She ruined our lives by killing my father. She could've done anything else but now she's going to be behind bars until she dies and I have no other family to go to and my grandmother hates me and-

And I don't know what to do.

When I left that day, she told me something that will stick with me forever.

 "One day, you will find someone who shines just as bright as you. And you two will blind the world."

That didn't make a lot of sense to me, and it still doesn't. I think my mom is delusional.

I left the police station, and then I cried. I haven't cried in a year. But that day, I cried.

It seemed as if the whole world was just placing its weight on me and trying to make me give up and kill myself and I felt so weak and I hate feeling weak.

So I promised myself.

Those memories are missing large pieces, what I'm saying might not make sense, and I'm sorry for that, but I promised myself that I won't feel weak ever again.

So, that's how I'm here now, a year later, eating stolen onigiri on the roof of an abandoned-building-turned-patio-deck along with Donghai, Xiaobo, and Feng. It's hard sometimes, but overall, it's a pretty dope life if you ask me.