When the belt rained down blow upon blow and my mother screamed at me “Do you think you’re special? Do you think you’re better than us?” I silently screamed “Yes!” I had to be special, I had these eyes – surely they were the mark of someone special, that I wasn’t actually a part of this family, that I belonged to another. No one else in my family or friends had my eyes – one full green, one full brown. When my brother sexually abused me and told me that I was “nothing special” I silently cried “I am special”, “you’re not even one of us.” he told me “We found you in an orphanage.If you tell anyone – they’ll take you back there”. I wished they would take me back there.