No Way Back

When I woke up in the mornings and opened my eyes, all I could see was the street and hard times; no one to turn to and nowhere to really go but to the dump or fishing or stealing, and most days, I did all three. I had no one to look up to so I made my own way. Sometimes, one day would be easier than another, but every day was a bit of hell. Every day, I got an "ass beating" about something I did or something I did not do. I had no say about anything. I was always wrong in my father's and mother's eyes and the more they beat me, the meaner I got with them and with everybody else. My sisters hardly ever got beaten. I got all the beatings for the family, so I really got in a f---- it kind of attitude. I began to look for the beatings every day. My life was really in bad shape.