It was in the cool summer evening, and the setting sun’s light softly peered through the tree branches of the aging tree.  The view was very pleasant almost like that of a painting.  I gracefully walked to a nearby apple tree in the opposite direction to rest upon as I watched this splendid view.  After a while, I started nod off until from somewhere in the tree I sat underneath, a vibrant red object landed in my lap, startling me into a more conscious state.  I glanced down to see what had struck my leg.  Sitting there was an apple, and though it was a very colorful red, it was not anything threatening as my instincts had suggested.  From that point, for whatever reason, the apple sent me spiraling into some of my dreariest memories.  They were so scarring that every time preceding this incident I would shudder and do my best to push them as far out of my head as possible.  That day, though, was different, and sitting there underneath that tree, I flashed back.  The apple reminded me of the only decent early childhood moments I had.
Heading out with the family to pick some apples had always been a fun time.  While waiting for everyone to come back from retrieving his or her share of apples, my older brother and I would always create our own fun.  We would invest our plentiful time in whatever we could think of that day.  We had climbed the semi-sweet fragrant trees pretending we were kings over the land.  “Catch me if you can,” my older brother would always tease, and I would always holler to him, “I will be king this time around.”  From there, we had apple wars and pretended we were generals fearlessly leading our imaginary armies into battle against each other for the orchard that we frolicked upon.  That was the only place I could find refugee.  Though I had some pleasant relatives, my intermediate family was another story.  It was like a chapter right out of Avatar: The Last Airbender but with a many different twist and turns.  Being in the house was frustrating. Always being subject to teasing that seemed to have gone too far and the tiny neglect of love that went to everyone else constantly saddened my frail and fragile heart.  I would always be called stinky, stupid, or loser.  Then for all my other siblings, they would get some of their request granted, but I was completely ignored.  Especially for Christmas, I rarely received presents, but the presents I did get were necessities for me.
As I grew a little older and a bit taller, nothing changed for the better.  I was always left with most of the chores to finish and was punished if they were not finished.  Also, while they went out and had oodles of fun, I was stuck (left) at home with nothing but my lonesome self for an entire day. 
One day, as my family left, they forgot to awaken me.  As usual, I lingered at home alone in solitude having to do a list of chores that were set up for me days ahead.  Yet, one detail that they hadn’t failed to overlook was providing me with means of nourishment, until that day. At times like these, I would always say, “At least you’re living and breathing, it could be worse.”  But alas, I became so famished I had to do something.  Luckily, I had some common sense for a nine-year-old.  I called my uncle who had always acted as more of a parent to me than my actual ones.  He had previously lost his family in a boating accident, so he started to focus more on me.  Because he had been there for me, I was able to experience a sliver of the “normal” childhood life.  He also taught me what morals were and what he thought was respectable.  When I called him about being home alone and with no food, he was not pleased.  “Uncle Drew,” I spoke with a cowardly voice, “ I need your help. I am home alone and I need some food.”
“I’ll be right over,” he stated with a tad bit of anger in his voice. “Just be careful.”  In fact, he was infuriated.  He slammed his telephone down so hard the machine and the phone crumbled under his powerful rage.  From that moment on, he was bent on getting custody of me. 
Later, I went to a police station and entered a room I had seen dozen times on television, but I didn’t know why I was in the room.  I thought long and hard while sitting in there, and then I thought I was in trouble because I remembered the pack of gum that I had stealthily swiped from the store.  Then the guy walked in to the small room, which had a really dark window on one wall.  I expected him to be colossal with maybe one or two tattoos on him, but this guy was rather slender with a big grin and was short in stature.  He sat there and looked at me right in the eyes for a lengthy interval of time.  At first I thought maybe we were having a staring contest, so I looked back at him really hard with the intent not to blink; but after he failed to stop, I started talking about the pack of gum.  “Don’t throw me in jail with the mean people.  I didn’t think that a pack of gum was worth so much,” I reached out and threw the pack of gum that was in my pocket and hit him right between the eyes.
He looked at me confused. “We want to talk to you about your life at home.”
I glared at him, expressing bitterness and declared, “I am not really supposed to tell you, but my parent don’t take care of me enough or love me enough my cousins say.” 
He asked me a couple of other questions I couldn’t remember, but a couple of days after going to the police station I saw some of the same people there in a court room that were in the police station.  I was called up to sit on the stand and briefly told everything about my life at home.  Then I figured out why I was there.  Then I stood up and shouted, “Can my brothers and sisters come with me?”
Astonished, the judge proclaimed, “Sorry, but I don’t know if that would be possible.”  After this, I sat down and watched some men argue about whether I go home with Uncle Drew or Mom and Dad.  Then one person, surrounded by others in the corner of the room, stood up and read, “We have anonymously decided that it would be best if Damon Andrews was released into the custody of Drew Tyler’s custody.”  It was a long process, but he finally became my legal guardian.  Through that entire time, I was confused and scared, but I knew that everything would eventually balance itself out.  I was still skeptical about my siblings not being able to come with me.  As I grew older, however, I began to figure out why it was just I put into my uncle’s care.
After my deep and long thoughts to the past, I wished I could have forgotten them.  Angry, I stood up and threw the apple across the yard, hitting one of the trees with such force it splattered everywhere.  At that point, I broke down into tears.  I didn’t know it at the time, but my uncle had been watching. He came up to me and wrapped his arm around me, comforting me.  Though he had no clue what was happening, he still was there.  After I was finished, we just lay there in the soft, cool grass, watching the marvelous constellations and holding conversations.  Sitting there I thought to myself that at least I have two people to be thankful for: God Almighty and Uncle Drew.  Then I looked over at him and smiled, and he pointed out a shooting star.  We both closed our eyes and wished.  I lay there wishing that Uncle Drew help guide me for the rest of my life.  Then I looked at him, “ Uncle Drew, what was it you wished for?” 
Finally, he looked back wished, “I wish I could be the most useful guardian to you.”