Shouting, screaming, crashes and bangs coming from the hallway outside a small boy’s room. Rustic white paint falling off the walls, ripped up beige carpet, and a rickety metal framed bed that was the only item in the boy’s room. No toys, no drawers, no books, and he was only 3 years old. He looks out his square bedroom window with red eyes from lack of sleep to see a tree blanketed in fresh glistening snow from earlier in the day. Putting his tiny boney palms on the window to feel a little closer to the snow which looks like it would be so much fun to play in, and if only he was allowed. It seems that that is the only relief that the boy can get as his parents argue aimlessly for reasons that he can’t understand. His parents have struggled with paying their bills and keeping steady work as layoffs have continued to occur in Surrey B.C. Canada. They have continuously argued over simple things, like “why didn’t you make dinner” and “why are you in the bathroom for so long”. The boy never seemed to understand why they are always so angry about simple things, even though those issues aren’t really the problem at all. He thinks to himself, still gazing out the window, “I wonder if I’ll ever escape this place, I’d love to meet new people that are different.” 8:00 P.M. now, tiptoeing over to his bed, laying down, and looking up at the ceiling. His parents still screaming at one another, “I hope I dream of a far away land”, thinking to himself as he starts to fall asleep, shutting his tearful eyes.