I loved to draw and paint, throwing those spectacular colors across a blank canvas and turning it into something unique. Young, carefree, with the world in the palm of my hands. The options limitless. My world ended the night the door creaked open. It was their first of many visits. Life as I knew it went blank. It became a survival game and counting my only solace to get through the pain. It all became too much. I ran into the darkness of the night. That blank canvas long forgotten and incomplete. The ways of the streets became my new home. Drugs and sex my new survival. Until one night, it all went too far. I was happy to know the pain would finally end; welcomed being murdered in a lonely alley. All of the weight on my shoulders and vicious memories would be forgotten once I took my final breath. Life hates me, and I didn’t die. A second chance was handed to me, but what happens when I don’t want it? This time, I have the chance to make my own art. One person’s Blank Canvas is another’s Graffiti.