I used to live a normal life. I had everything a 7 year old needed. Loving parents, plenty of friends. I was accepted. When I was 9, my mom left my dad and I. I remember watching her drive away with her new husband. It turns out that she's been cheating on my dad for about a year. My dad went crazy. He started drinking heavily and abusing me. I, on the other hand, didn't care what she did. I just wished she would've left sooner if she was that unhappy with us. She didn't care. Weeks after my mom left, my dad started to leave bruises, cuts, and scars on me. My friends didn't want to be seen with someone like that. I started to do everything alone. Eat lunch, walk the halls. Nobody cared anymore. I wasn't accepted any longer. One night, while running from my dad, I ran into this man. He tried to help me, but I just pushed him away like I do everyone else. He saved me from men trying to hurt me. We became friends and he protected me. I guess you could say he was, my protector.