Beat, I am beat. I am covered in dirt and oil. I am hurting, yet I still get through all of it. I try to hold strength till the end of the day. I am 15 years old, not educated and working almost everyday at the cotton mill. All I can hear is the sound of the machines. I can barely hear anything else. It seems as the cotton is engraved into my soul. Most of my friends are in the hospital with whooping cough. I pray each night that I won’t get it. The factory is very dirty. I am saving up to pay for my sister's hospital bill because my family can’t afford it. My sister has been in the hospital for 5 years. I believe no one should ever suffer through this pain. All I seek is hope, hope my sister will get better, hope I won’t have to work much
