Chapter .1.

My story is the story of forgotten people and the voice of the voiceless. ~Andrea Hirata *** The slamming of noise invades my ears as the alarm sounds. But my eyes have been open just a minute before the hour turned to five. The cruel reality that I should wake up before my clock can complete its job each day always brings a smile to my face. "Beat ya," I whisper. But there's no one there to listen to me. Just the clock as it ticks down until the next round in the morning, for when we see who would catch sight of the barren darkness first. I fumble in the dark, falling hard on the ground in the attempt to get the sweats on. "Damn," the lights were the last thing I wanted on, but the noise I was making would soon wake the whole pack house if this continued. Slowly, I open the door, peering my head out to make sure no one had awoken f