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Slicing tears of pain and distraught from my little girl's dream of playing unicorn's and fairies in the small back garden behind dingy, tall and grey looking apartment buildings. I lived with my mum, Jo she was called, well that was what everyone called her but they didn't know her past, or her real name.

To be honest nor did I until I learnt to live in the real world rather than a fantasy world with fantasy friends in the forms of princesses, fairies, angels unicorns and little talking mice that gave me advice when I needed it, which was often and frequent. The truth of my mum's past was one of the nightmares that I would soon learn of when I found her box of truths on the evening of 6th of July, when the sun was setting outside a blood red ball of fire, casting big orange silhouettes on the faces of the buildings, creating a romantic feeling for our small cluster of apartment buildings. Unfortunately I couldn't enjoy this perfect evening of playing with my fantasy friends. I had to leave the apartment with the box of truth's to find a woman, whose information was in this 'box'. That year when my nightmares had started to happen I was 1 going on 15 years of age. I was a prisoner in my own fantasies, struggling to get out and run free. To find out who I was and who I was meant to be.