I think I was in love with him. We spent all our time together. He was practically the reason my mom had stopped hitting me and actually became closer to me. He was like a prince charming; in fact that’s what I will call him. I had a best friend at the time. She meant the world to me. Her parents had stepped in for me at the most important moments. Once her mother had brought her mom when my mom was beating me against the door, mom was trying to hold me steady while trying to get the top half of our kitchen door to slam in my face, my best friend’s mom was horrified and had immediately put me in her car and taken me to their home. She took care of me and made sure she put salve on all my bruises. She even held me in a way I wished my mom would. My best friend’s dad had treated me like his own daughter. He helped me with school work, gave me advice about boys and even helped me with a career choice and how to go about making the right choice for me. They filled the empty spots where my own family was supposed to be.
