Ever since I was 4 my father beat the tears and the words right out of me. The only thing I could ever say was " I'm sorry, I'm so sorry". I hate these words. Many of us know that our abusers stole our freedom to speak. I know for myself that my entire family makes it impossible for me to speak my mind. When I attempt to I am locked in my room with no way of connecting to the outside world, and there I stay til the next morning. I have been silenced so much that I often find myself afraid to speak. I write poems, draw beautiful pictures and write stories. This is how I speak my mind. In art no one can tell you what is right or how it's so. You control it, you create it. Lately the only person I've been able to speak my mind to that listens is my therapist and I show her my art. She likes it and tries so hard to understand but still it doesn't save me. She said maybe I could get an art scholarship. Maybe.