The Game Changer (Blake) 3 ✔️

Chapter Sixty I Am What I Am

I am- James Arthur

(Blake at 5 yrs old)

    I sat in the cage I was placed in. The man who took me in put me here and told me to get comfortable because this was where I would stay. I kept feeling as though I deserved what was happening. I mean, what other reason would there be for me being here? I must have done something wrong and this is my punishment. Being here. Being locked in a dark room. Being scared out of my mind thinking someone would soon come back and take me away again. The places they took me and what they did were bad.

I was abused almost hourly, talked down to while also being verbally and emotionally abused. Constantly, I was being told that I was nothing, that I was just a thing to practice on and that I probably wouldn't last much longer. That I wouldn't live much longer. There is no light in this place, everything is dark and it's the people's cruelty that makes it that way. Everyone here was cruel, I have yet to meet someone nice. Things here are really bad. The things are so bad that sometimes I even wished I was dead.

At five years old, I was wishing for myself to be dead, and I thought of ways to die, so many ways to end my life. I thought if ways to die in this room as well as ways to die outside. Instead of imagining a different life, place, world, or even imagining something good, I imagined ways to die. I've thought of so many ways and they're just up there floating around in my head bringing me down. I thought of ways such as: jumping in front of a moving car, or hanging myself from something with my clothes in here. I think I saw that in a movie one time.

Not that I would ever get the guts or even get the confidence to do such a thing. I can always think or dream of doing it, but I don't think I would ever do it. Never. I couldn't let them win that easily. They were already in the lead and I couldn't let them win. I had to last longer, I needed to. For me, I needed to stay alive, for my mom I needed to live. I needed to find my mom again and I needed to be with her. She needed me. She needs my help just as much as I need hers right now, but I knew deep down she wouldn't come.

There are things wrong with her memory. She couldn't remember things very well unless she was reminded and she needed to be reminded. She needed to be reminded of me. I needed to remind her that I'm her daughter and that I'm real. That I'm not just a dream. I am reality. Her reality. I couldn't do that from in here. I couldn't take care of her from in here, I couldn't help her from in here. I couldn't do anything from in here except wait for them to come and beat me again.

A light flicks on and immediately I get on high alert, sitting up straight and getting ready for what I knew is soon to come. It was around that time again, and it never stays away for long. I always have to be ready for it because it always comes at some point. There's no escaping it no matter how hard I try. The sound of footsteps echo through rooms before Braxton, the man who took me, stands in front of the cage I'm forced to stay in. The cell that's supposed to be my room.

Braxton stares down at me through the cell bars, with his hands in his pockets. I keep staring up at him, looking him directly in the eyes. His eyes were dark and scary, but I had to look at them. I was taught to look people in the eyes, so, now it was a habit. I wanted to look away, look down so I didn't have to see them and the nightmares they held but I stayed strong. I was told not to do so. Looking away was weakness and weakness isn't good. At least, that's what mommy said.

"Are you ready?" He asks in a low voice. I swallow and sit up straighter.

"I want to go home." I say. "Please my mommy needs me, let me go home."

"You're mother needs you?" Braxton asks. "The same mother that left you in the park? She left you there all alone and you think she needs you?"