My life in a concentration camp, only it was called home
by Debra Daniels
(Knoxville Tn. US)
My earliest memory was when I was 3 yrs. old. Seems hard to believe I can remember that far back.I think that may be why its so hard to move forward in my life. I recall so much in such detail, that first memorie of the smell of the air, the chill against my little arms,tears runnung down my dirty little face,my broken little heart, because my daddy lied to me. He said he was going to buy me a tricycle. I waited for him to come back,he never came back. I must have been unhappy before that first lie because I just remember all darkness and sadness before that. Life only got worse for for me because my mom wasnt a strong mother. She took care of her husbands, yes I mean all of her husbands needs and neglected the needs of her child. Im 55 yrs. old and cant seem to escape the camp I had to live in.
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