I’ve just found a photo, which shows our old house, where we used to live in, in Dover. On the old bench, near the house a young girl is sitting. The girl is me. I was about 15 years old then. It seems not much, but life had already shown me that things not always go well. Peers were bullying me, because I was poor… worse… I didn’t tell it to anybody, but because of that I started to cut myself. On my left wrist there are still scars.
In the picture, behind me there is a small house and it was clearly noticeable that it needed a renovation. From the old window shutters, brown paint was flakeing. Around, there was uncountable amount of flowers and other plants. It’s because of my mum, who spent every free moment on growing them. She was working in the florist’s, so that her boss let her take home some unsold bags of kernels. She didn’t earn much, but it was better than nothing. My dad earned not much more. But we were coping with everything, living from one payment to another. Looking back to the time I can only tell about the luck that happened to me. Everything has changed when my dad unexpectedly won a huge money prize. We could finally afford to buy luxurious staff. After moving from Dover to London I could feel a possibility to spread my wings. I left the past behind. My happiness fulfilled when I met Him. I just can thank to the lot. Trust me, I have many reasons to do that.
