Slipping my key from my pocket, I unlocked the side door. Old junk was piled up, things my mom didn’t want to give away for one reason or another, even though they were broken beyond repair. But those broken things had become my wall of protection. I figured my mom knew I stayed back here, but she never bothered trying to find me, even though my room in the house lay vacant. It had ever since the day of my sixteenth birthday. Instead, I’d made a home amongst the trash. It was fitting, given that was all she thought I was.
