I heard the voices of my parents fighting as I cowered in the corner of my room afraid they would hurt me again, verbally and physically. I was always hidden away from people, never knew how to love or love something as all I heard were conflicts and screams of anger as I tried to live on with my life, the same thing everyday, fighting, cleaning, getting hurt, and repeat.

It was a never ending circle until it was my 15th birthday I grew the courage to escape from the house of Hell, I packed the very little things I had and never looked back, the only memories I had of that place were the bruises on my skin.
No one knew my story, no one knew how I felt, I was independent working about 3 jobs to make a living, soon I got an apartment near a good High school, I could see a bright future ahead of me I could finally be free, I could finally be the me I wanted to be, until I met a boy we were the complete opposite of each other he was fun and cheerful while I was boring and gloomy but soon we learned to love
Together.