I remember the touch of his lips, the way he smellled and the ones at fault for our final goodbyes. I was indeed young at the time and very foolish, stupid and idiotic. I indeed did know it was love in which we shared. But I was only 13 at the time. His name was James. He was my life, my first love and was my bestfriend till about 15. Thats when our mums died together in an car crash. We feel asleep on the couch at his place, untill we fell asleep in eachothers arms. But then I was brutally awaken by my Father who slapped me across the face and ordered me to pack my stuff as we left in the dead of the night. I left James, my life and myself when we left England. Now we remain in America. We live in Chalfont, Pennslyvainia. Where we have a shore house in Sea Isle, New Jersey two blocks from the friggen beach. But in england we were a happy Family. No problems were face until my mums death since the move to America, a lot has changed. MY father had became an acaholic where he would abuse me (not rape) we he returned from the bar. but in the morning he would finallly apologize when he became sober. I go to school and repeate the process at 9:30 pm the next day.