I was lying in my bed in my little mermaid jammies, trying to reject the noise. I wrapped myself in my stained baby blanket, grabbed a ratted old dog named pal, put my pillow over my head and closed my moist eyes. As I drifted away I knew it couldn’t have always been like this. A pictured a time so land ago when we were all happy; my daddy would come home, we would eat moms homemade chicken with rice and green beans in the perfectly white kitchen table. My happy thoughts were excused by one of moms good plates hitting the patterned tile in the kitchen. I thought to myself, that I had to do something, make them both listen to the love that I once remembered. Endurance entered my little body, as I flung myself out of bed, I had to stop it. I opened my door to see this man I have never seen walking up the stairs, eyes as red as his ripped shirt, tears crossing every wrinkle on his pale face. A tight hug to the stranger sent tears out of my eyes, quietly I murmured, “daddy, I’m going with you.”