I stand in front of my bedframe, in front of a mirror. A mirror among just a few in this.. home. I thought to myself the countless wishes I've ever thought. Silently praying for life where I remember mine, to redo my choices and rewrite my mistakes. Are they mine? Am I to blame? I shook those questions off my head. Why would I blame some other's life for how much I despise mine? Right? I wish I was born different from what I am right now. I wish I was born a different place, a different country. I wish I had it easy for once, I wish my so-called childhood never went to waste. I closed my eyes tightly as I felt another pang on my chest. Why does that happen? No wound nor illness, yet there's pain. I looked at the silhouette on the mirror once more, and felt parts of my body I felt uncomfortable of because- I heard a slam from the front door followed by faint sobs and screams. I double checked the doorknob of the room. Perhaps I was a criminal in a past life to deserve this