Red Hill Acres

This place, this place, why am I even here? Abandonment maybe? Maybe I was thrown out like trash, and put into this place, Red Hill Acres. It may sound nice but it's not. You can put nice clothes on a whore but she's still a whore. That's exactly what this place is. There's one television, four kids to a room and not always enough beds, the sheets smell, the blankets are crusty, the windows don't open, the food sucks, the hospitality sucks even more, cockroaches live inside the walls, the water is brown, the group leaders are abusive, bullies are around every corner, and only one single person in this place gives a hell about what's going on! Only one single person in this place gives a hell about what's going on, with a particular interest in me. I don't know why, it's not like he has to. He's the janitor; a lazy janitor; nonetheless, he shouldn't care about what's going on here. He does though, with his sentimental, exhausted brown eyes. I think I love him. Shit. Red Hill Acres, shit.