My life wasn’t always this horrible. My life was perfect, I lived the perfect life.
I lived with a happy family, though I was the only child. My father was a photographer and my mother stayed home to look after me. There was never any screaming or fighting in the house. Only love and sweet words went round. I was happy. I got everything that I ever wanted.
But that happiness didn’t last long.
The day after I celebrated my third birthday, my father passed away. My mother couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t understand why she was crying, I didn’t know what was going on.
I stayed awake every night for 2 weeks waiting for my daddy to come home. I couldn’t wait any longer. I walked downstairs towards my drunken mother who was holding another bottle of alcohol. “Mummy, when’s daddy coming home, he’s never been home this late from work before.” I asked her. She didn’t reply, she could only cry. I sat down next to her and hugged her.
“Mi-Young ah, you’re fathers not coming home.” She cried, and then she left out the door.
I was stunned.
‘What does she mean daddy’s not coming home?’ I just didn’t understand what she just told me.
A sudden tear fell onto my lap. I wiped it away and walked up the stairs and into my room. I grabbed my teddy bear from my bed and hugged it tightly. It was the last gift my father had given me, I’m going to treasure it forever.
After that night, my mother came home with Kyoung. He became my step-father. From then on, life has only been hell for me. The once peaceful house was now filled with piercing screams and the smell of alcohol.
Every night I watched my mother and Kyoung argue and fight. My heart was only filled with pain. From then on, I haven’t laughed or smiled from happiness.
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The next week my mother dropped me off at a weird place that was called school. The ‘school’ was filled with children running around. I tried to make friends but no one wanted to talk to me. They all looked at me with disgust. Everyone avoided me. I didn’t know why.
I gave up. I gave up on trying to talk to people.
I appeared to be a freak, no one wanted to be near me, they didn’t even dare approach me.
Do I look scary? 
Why aren’t they talking to me, why are they laughing at me?
A tear fell down my face as I quickly wiped it away.
“Are you okay?” I heard a voice ask me.
I looked up and saw a boy standing next to me with a worried expression on his face.
I nodded as I looked down to my knees and wiped away the other tear that fell.
I felt a pair of hands on my face. The warmth of it made me calm. The hands made my face tilt up to face him.
“Don’t cry.” He said to me as he wiped away the remaining tears that stained my face.
This is the first time I felt such warmth and comfort from another.
“Please Don’t Cry.” He said to me. I looked up, into his eyes and a sudden feeling of warmth rushed through my body. For the first time in my life I knew what it felt like to be at ease.
I grabbed onto his shirt and hugged him tightly, afraid that if I let go, he will be gone.
Almost as if he read my mind, he whispered to me, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to go anywhere.”
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12 years later, sitting across me is Jiyong. Kwon Jiyong.
He is the only person in my life that will comfort me when I’m sad, lend me a shoulder to cry on, and open his ears to listen to my problems. I feel safe and happy whenever I’m with him.
Too bad I don’t feel that way at home.
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Unlike before, my mother doesn’t care about me anymore. I’m nothing to her. She doesn’t even acknowledge me as her daughter anymore. To her, she has no daughter.  I’m just like any other ordinary person to her … almost like a stranger.
It’s good that she is no longer my step-fathers punching bag, but it’s me. I’m her replacement.
They both come home late and drunk every night. My step-father runs up the stairs and barges into my room. He starts screaming at me, and when he finally has enough of screaming, the violence starts. He hits me, and it hurts. I cry out for my mum, whose standing at the door, to help me but she does nothing. She just stands there, with a beer in her hand, watching her husband beat me up while laughing. When his done hitting me he gets up and leaves my room laughing away with my mother, while I lay in bed, unable to move with blood dripping onto my bed.
Why me? Why me of all people? Why am I the one to suffer? Why did you have to take my father away from this world? I miss him, I wish he was here.