My days were filled with laughter and jokes. My family was very harmonious, and I was very happy with them. My mother, Giselle, and my father, Gabriel, loved and cared for each other, never arguing. One bright morning, when I was 7 years old, my father and I were in the garden, watering the flowers and playing. I was holding my favorite brown teddy bear that my father had given me.
We were playing tag, and I fell. I cried, but my father didn't even reach out to help me. He just looked at me and stood there with a smile. "What are you doing there? Come on, get up. There's no point in crying, if you fall, you have to get back up," my father said.
I paused for a moment, then wiped away my tears, got up, and started smiling. My father immediately came over and picked me up lovingly. "Remember, Grie, don't be afraid to get up. You too have to be more assertive to become a real man like Dad, don't be a crybaby. You want to be like Dad, right?" I nodded, my eyes sparkling. "Yes!" I exclaimed excitedly.
My father means a lot to me, he's the person I admire most among all the people around me. That night, I turned 14. We all gathered around the dining table. My mother, Giselle, was cooking dinner for us, she was an elegant and beautiful woman. After the food was cooked, we began to eat together, the room filled with laughter and jokes.
As midnight approached, my mother was in my room, patting my head and reading me a bedtime story, even though I was already 14. It was because storytelling had always been her hobby. "Then the knight married the princess and lived happily ever after." The bedroom door opened, and there my father stood. I, who had been sleepy, started to wake up.
My father said he had an urgent call from his boss and had to leave immediately. My mother looked worried because it was already late, but what could she do? My father turned to me, realizing I wasn't asleep. He smiled and said, "Take care of your mother, son. Remember never to be rude to women." I nodded.
Little did we know that day would be the last time we would see my father. The next day, we heard the news that my father had died. They said it was an accident. My mother was in shock and cried for hours. I cried too, but not for long. I kept trying to comfort her, but I couldn't.
Days later, my mother's condition worsened. She started to feel sick and act strangely. When I took her to the doctor, he said she was severely depressed and... because of the previous incident. I was forced to care for her, remembering my father's words, "Take care of your mother." I spent two years of my life caring for her, growing up with violence and anger.
Every day was incredibly difficult for me. I had to care for her, clean her, soothe her screams every night, becoming a victim of her emotional outbursts. Everything changed after my father's death. Things worsened with the arrival of a man named William. He came with his sweet words and... money. My mother started to improve after William's arrival. It was good news, but also bad news for me.
I was happy when my mother started to return to normal. I started to smile again, but what kept me trapped in anger was William. He took everything from me: my mother's love, attention, and my world. William also acted arbitrarily towards me, and there are many stories I can't tell. Every time I told him what he did to me, my mother didn't believe me and defended him.
My two years of fighting for my mother seemed like a fleeting moment. After learning about William's worst side, I hated him even more. There were many mysteries about him. I didn't know what would happen next, but I was certain I had to fight to protect myself and perhaps my mother as well.