My past wasn’t filled with millions or billions of books reading wasn’t even something I enjoyed to do, my family loves to read books, me on the other hand I despised them. My family was constantly encouraging me to read whether it was a child’s book, a novel , or a series , a trilogy anything they could get me hooked on just to keep me occupied , and so I could have something to focus on . The past , my past it wasn 't the greatest I had an abusive, alcoholic , drugged up father sometimes I wonder whether he loved me , despised me , or if he even misses me now .One day my father could be a loving and considerate person but on those off days you never knew what to expect , I could wake up in the middle of the night hearing yelling or screaming…