I turned my back on him and left him there to believe whatever he wanted to believe.
I walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom but I didn't go inside. Instead, I slipped quietly into Leon's room and closed the door softly behind me.
My heart was pounding against my ribs. I was cold and shaking. But I didn't cry. I had no tears left. I was too focused.
I sat in the armchair next to Leon’s bed. I watched him sleep.
Childhood abuse is a poison. It is something that stays with you for life. It changes who you are.
I looked at Leon's peaceful face, and suddenly, I wasn't just looking at him. I was looking at myself.
I wasn't physically abused like Leon. Nobody hit me. But I had a stepmother who hated me. She was like a cold wind in my house. She abused me with words. She made me feel
