High School Dropout-Diversity Role Assignment

She released a hushed whimper as she coiled her almost lifeless body into a compact ball. The blood collected around her bare, bruised bottom and images of the relentless beating flashed in an agonizing loop before her. Remorse and shame engulfed her as she cradled tightly the malnourished newborn which was myself. She had finally met the boundaries which marked the border of Heaven and Hell and then, in a blink of her swollen eyes, I was alone as all life exited her . I have a substantially small amount of recollection of my wretched mother. However, my numerous encounters with foster homes ignited an uncontrollable, burning hatred for the worthless bitch. At the age of 15 she became another statistic to our world as she joined the 750,000 other young mother's in the United states, leading her to flunk out of high school. Shortly after my birth, Mother resorted down the dark path of prostitution for the monetary benefits which she needed to support me. This was the decision which destroyed, not only her, but myself; spilling the blood of innocence and exposing me to a world of sin. With this knowledge, my loathing for the whore flourished and I vowed to never become such an abomination. Yet, there I was, kneeling, praying for a way out of the mess which I had so recklessly created. I was shameful. I was broken. I was another statistic, another quitter, another high school dropout (Question 1). I was a spitting image of my enemy and an impeccable reflection of the devil. Long before the bright morning sun sets afloat in the horizon, the echoes of my child's sobs race through the halls of my insignificant apartment. Sleepily I usher myself out of bed while releasing a tired sigh. Thus, my routinely day has begun. I carefully coax my sweet Annabelle back into her slumber. Before I exit her nursery, I gaze at the beautiful creature I had brought into the world merely 2 years ago. A sorrowful tear trickles down my cheek as I observe my daughter. Her breathe was