I’m lying on my parent’s bed—all alone on a farm filled with children and grown-ups. That’s nothing new. I spend a great deal of time lost in my own make-believe world. That’s how I cope with the lifestyle I’ve grown to hate. Sounds of playful banter filter up the stairs. I wonder what game the other kids are playing. Monopoly? Clue? Canasta? The sun streaming across the foot of the bed invites me over to the window. I see the older kids on the baseball field. It’s Todd’s turn at bat. My brother is nine and a half—only two years older than me. Normally, I like watching him play baseball, but on this day I don’t care if he gets a hit or not. I have more important things in mind. ......
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