-the memories flood my brain. Three solid years of living here. I automatically go to the back corner ofthe shelter-
-I let him hug me as I stare at the cot. I pull away to get the shoe box. I grab it and sit on my cot-
-I pull out everything. A picture of my mom before she changed. Letters. A button. A knife with a rusty blade. And something new a letter. Before reading it I get up and throw my knife at the wall so it sticks-
-I hear how they kept my cot how it was cuz I was strong and would come back. I start crying harder. It's my sisters writing.-