My name is Tasha Dale. Im an independent second class working lady… well, at least thats what I think I am. When I was little, my parents and I had a lot of fun, we were almost the perfect trio. I treasured every moment and wishes that things would never change and that I would never grow up; that was how happy I was.

They erected a swing for me in the garden, at the back of our house. There, we would play together. Id call my dad superman and my mom, wonder woman; because to me, they were my worlds greatest heros. They were perfect.

I was very happy with my family until it all fell apart. The older I got, the more that I saw that my parents weren heros. They were just like me, imperfect.

It all started the day I got back from school. I was 4 but unlike other kids, I didn take the bus because the school was just a few blocks away. I opened the front door with a cheerful smile ready to great my parents, but what met me was our familys portrait flying towards me. I quickly docked due to instinct and avoided it but still got hurt by the shattered glass.

I looked up in fright and saw my parents, fighting. My mom was screaming stuffs that I couldn understand and my dad responded the same way. I felt a sharp pain in my chest as I watched the harmony of my family fall into ruins for what I didn understand.

”Tasha, go to your room! ” Mom instructed

”Why send her away? ” Dad said ”Why not let her know? ”

”Kyle, get a hold of yourself. Shes still a child. ” Mom responded

”Yeah, our child! ” I was sure he emphasized on the word our as he stared at mom like he was going to kill her. I couldn do anything. With my little legs and my bag pack still hanging on my shoulders, I ran up to my room crying.

I shut the door and didn come out no matter what I heard. There were more things breaking in the kitchen and then the living room. Then, I heard my mom scream at dad.

”I love my daughter but I won stay with you for one more second. Im leaving! ” She declared but didn leave. She stayed but hardly showed her face to me. It broke my heart.

Everytime I got home from school, Id meet them arguing over little and big things. It happened everyday but I couldn get used to it. For a four year old girl, it was too much to take.

I got to middle school and that was when I realized that dad had started drinking, mom came home once in a while and we were running out of money. The few times mom came home were always chaotic. Id wish for those few times to at least be peaceful but my wish never came true.

This made me wonder what went wrong? Why could they never be happy? I started wishing that I had a different family; where everything was fine and felt like mine.

Seeing them fight like that, I swore Id never be like them but looking back now, I guess I was just a kid back then.

Mom finally packed her stuff and left, but before she left, I asked her with teary eyes.

”Why…why did all this happen? ” She looked at me for a moment, her eyes giving off emotions I couldn understand.

”Falling for the wrong person is painful. ” She began ”You don get to fall in love everyday and you don find the perfect one with ease. Let me advise you, ” she stroked my hair ”…loving is hard. It doesn always work, you just need to try your best not to get hurt. ” With those words she left.

I couldn bring myself to stop her or ask her to take me along. Perhaps I still believed she would come back and everything would go back to the way it used to be. Perhaps.

I went to the swing and sat there trying not to cry but I wasn strong enough. I broke into tears as I thought of my broken family. Mom was gone, dad became a drunk and I was all alone. My friends were also gone, what could I possibly do?

I was sure to heed moms advise and because of that, I didn fall for anyone. I entered highschool and dads drinking worsened. He couldn even recognize me as his daughter anymore.

Dad often saw me as a punching bag but I wasn one to take a hot for nothing. Regardless of him being my father, Id hit him back really hard. At first I started by hitting him with the nearest object to knock him out and if there was none, Id use my fist.

Such incidents happened a lot and I got acustomed to using my fist. That much experience in fighting became useful later on.

I got into college with the trust fund saved in my name and stayed in campus. I didn want to go home and face my drunk of a father.

I indulged in a lot of activities just to keep my mind off things and really let go. I didn trust anyone no matter how nice or innocent they looked. That only spiked up my suspicions concerning your motive of approaching me.

I wasn a pushover at college and I definitely didn let a matter slide.

Sure I wasn the most popular or the most beautiful but I stood out with my curly orange hair, sharp eyes, pointed nose and little plump lips. I was the definition of cute and dangerous.

I went on with my single life, always remembering the words my mom told me. I couldn stand the thought of getting my heart hurt. Sure I could takes a few punches in the face but definitely not my heart.

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