No one understands me, the hurt, the pain i go through.

Like, not being able to get the freaking designer bag i want, and I have been asking my father for it for months!

It’s not even cost that much. Just a couple thousand. Ugh.

I used to be able to buy my self anything I wanted, but now all i can buy is cheap baggers clothes. That’s what my dad said. It almost felt like my worst fears were going to come true.

I was going to become a begger a poor person.

And without warning that’s what we became.

We moved into a small house. I bought poor people clothes. I lost many friends.

And then again almost as if this was some horrible nightmare, we went right to the bottom.

Where once we were on top with the elites, we sunk to the bottom like the titanic.

We were homless.

I became the thing that people looked at with discussed. The thing that I once laughed at.

After a week of self pity and my father trying to find a job and a place to stay. I decided I would help him.

But it was so hard. No one wanted a homeless person to work for them.

But after a month of looking and begging. I finally got a job at McDonald’s. It wasn’t much but it was something.

And Day by day, month by month. Me and my dad worked our butts off, until we finally bought a cute small house.

No it wasn’t a mansion, but I didn’t need or want that, not anymore.

I was happy. Actually happy. Content with the life i have. The people. Everything.