The cold, bitter wind whips my face hard and howls through the branches of huge trees.
I pull my sleeping bag further over my head as rain is falling heavily. The rain continues for over two hours. It is no use; I cannot sleep. I poke my head out of my sleeping bag.
Memories are coming back to me.

It was in the hall that I witnessed my mother's murder.
"You always were a rotten child. You weren't and aren't good enough for my son," my grandmother's voice spoke.
"Terry and I love each other. You Lily, you just never accepted me into your life, did you?" my mother's voice contradicted.
They argued for what seemed like ages. Neither of them saw me. I saw the dagger in my grandmother's right hand. My mouth opened, to scream and shout a warning to my mother. However, no word came out. My grandmother's hand darted forwards into my mother. I will never forget her piercing scream. My grandmother withdrew the blood-stained dagger and moved swiftly out of the back door. I ran towards my mother and knelt beside her. I placed my two fingers on her neck, to try and find her pulse. I was unsuccessful. Her eyes were wide open. I wept over her until I could cry no more. Then, I kissed her forehead and got up. I walked over to the telephone and dialled 999.

I am crying once again, in my sleeping bag. My feet are freezing. There is no way to avoid the cold out here. I am trying desperately to keep warm but it seems that nature is winning.
My stomach rumbles. I realise that I haven't eaten since the previous morning. There doesn't seem to be much hope for me. Maybe I'll just starve. My first night out on the streets isn't a good one. I wriggle further and further into my sleeping bag. I look up and see the stars that all shimmer like glitter.
It is too painful to think about my mother. I am still in shock. I cannot believe that she is truly gone.
I am in a shop doorstep. It is a confined space but I am managing. I am uncertain for my future. I do not want to beg for food and money but soon I will have to. A woman approaches me and shows me an identity card. She is a voluntary charity worker. She takes me with her to a large building and she leads me in though the front door.
A familiar face stares at me. She grins maliciously. I suddenly feel insecure.
I have found myself staring into the eyes of my grandmother.