I stood on the side of the road, staring across the street. The road was empty. I took in its emptiness when I realized a rather large shoe box across the gravel, 20 feet away from where I stood. I stared intently at it. 'Deja vu,' I thought. I had definitely sen this before.... but where?

Suddenly I could see a tiny arm reach out from out of the box as I began to hear crying. I gasped. There was a BABY inside that box! I began to cross the street when a car zoomed by, almost brushing my nose. I tried to cross again when another car zoomed by, just barely missing me. Soon the quiet street transformed into a street with cars zooming by, as fast as race cars. But I had to get to that baby. I could feel the baby dying... slowly dying... I began to cry, knowing that I was 20 feet away from saving this child's life as dozens of cars zoomed in between us....

I shot up in my bed. I covered my face with my hands and sobbed. I had that dream-- AGAIN. I have that dream at least once every few months. But no one is ever there to comfort me, to hold me, and to tell me that it's going to be okay.

That baby in my dream, the one in the shoe box on the side of the road, trying to stay alive...was me. When I was a little over a month old I was abandoned and left on the side of the road in a shoe box in Doncaster, England. I was found by a four year old boy who took me home to his mum, who luckily was a nurse. The scary part is-- I had died minutes before the little boy found me. When his mum checked my pulse and found I was dead, she called 911. They luckily got my heart running again.

I owe my life to that four year old boy.

I'm 16 now, so that must make him 20. I don't even remember him all that much. I was put in an orphanage for 3 years until I was finally adopted. Until then he had visited me once every two weeks, seeing how long it took him to make me smile. The only thing I know about him is his name-- Louis.

I was going to meet Louis someday. That was my life-long goal.