If you’d look closely at me, you might discover the secret of survival. You might get an idea of my little secret, of breathing in the world where children are rotted before they even blossom. Am I afraid? Yes I’m. As long as I leave home there’s a fear growing, breathing, floating in the pit of my stomach. Fear that’s growing with me like a twin brother. Fear that has made my father way older than he actually is, fear that wakes up my Mother at midnight and makes her reassure my presence, of my purity. This fear however, doesn’t stop me from adoring the beauty of nature, it doesn’t stop my father or mother from trusting my uncle’s and aunt. This fear doesn’t stop me from jumping down the valley or climbing up. It doesn’t stop me from smiling for as long as I’ve time to live, I’d make best out of world.