Chapter Twenty Three
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When I was a child I used to believe in fairytales. I used to watch my parents and was constantly exposed to their love and that made me fully believe that there indeed was a happily ever after as long as you have found your mate. The way my parents loved each other was straight out of the most perfect, swoon- worthy romance novels; in my eyes and in the eyes of many others who knew them, they were perfect. That was the only word that could be used to describe their relationship. When my father died, my whole world fell apart. A great piece of me died along with him that night and my mother got hit a millions times worse than I. She lost half of her, she could have allowed herself to go insane and abandoned me after witnessing the brutal
