Through a Window

Prologue

Prologue

Moving.

Something I do quite often. Something I hate doing. Something that I’ve done since I was 10.  

Family.

Mine, broken. Father he’s a lost cause. Drug addict, Alcoholic, Abusive, Mean, the list goes on. Mother, I love her but she isn’t always the smartest person alive. Sometimes I feel like the adult, but whenever I’ve needed her most she’s been there. Everybody else, gone. My parents didn’t really connect with the rest of our family.

So my story, I was a happy-go-lucky kid growing up. Up until I was about 10 years old. I lived in Derry, New Hampshire on the east coast. And for those who don’t know where that is, it’s only a little north of Boston, Mass. Anyways, about 4 months before my 10th birthday my dad got very violent, always screaming and cussing out. Raising his hand but never touching us, yet. Apparently he used to have a drinking problem and soon got mixed in with that again, and one thing lead to another from the alcohol and he was a drug addict too.

About a month before my birthday, my mom packed our belongings and got us away from him. We thought we were free. Free from the abuse. Free from the drugs. Free from him. We escaped to a small town in Texas, but that wasn’t enough. A couple months later, possibly a year he’d come, he had found us. That day is just a blur in my mind. I don’t remember much. Just my mom yelling for me to pack my bags, and to get out of the house as fast as I can. I remember how the car ride felt like it took eternity before we stopped at some cheap gas station to fuel up, get food, and go to the bathroom. Then I was at my new home. Then a year later we repeated, and it’s just became a cycle.

Now my story isn’t one I like to share,  but sometimes you just got to put yourself out there. Nor am I just looking for sympathy, I’m telling you this to show you that you can fall in love. Even at the worst of times. When you think it’s most impossible. Because when I moved back to my hometown, I met Nick.