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whenever she wanted something, and though he would never admit it, all she had to do was ask, and she would get anything she wanted.
    Growing up as the only child of a cruel father, George’s life was filled with constant beatings and sexual abuse. He had been forced to fight his way through childhood just to survive. Even getting food was a challenge since his parents wasted most of his father’s paychecks on their nasty habits during regular visits to the local drug dealer.
    George knew he was emotionally scarred, and at the early age of 10, he turned to hustling to acquire the things his mother needed. He perfected his skills of manipulation to help her pay the rent, yet despite his best efforts, his mother often wasted the money on her habit. It was not her fault. His father was to blame for her addiction—everything was his fault.
    The past played with George’s head. His life was like an endless loop of loathing, degradation and shame. The disgust of his situation ran through his veins like a poisonous venom.
    Finally, on the eve of his 15th birthday, the poison spilled out. He had enough. After yet another threat to abuse him while watching TV, George jumped his father from behind. He swung without mercy, beating his father over the head with his fists and anything else he could get his hands on.
    His father wailed in pain and shouted for help as George’s fists rained down again and again while George slipped further away from reality with each swing.
    “You’re a piece of garbage!” the boy screamed. “You’re a loser! I hate you! You’ll never touch me again! I’m not your toy! I hate you!”
    The police charged in and struggled to pull George off. A moment later would have been too late. He intended to kill his father. He thrashed without concern for the consequences, punching one of the cops in the groin while trying to break free. He screamed at the top of his lungs, “Let me kill him! That scum deserves it! Let me put him six feet under! Let me kill him! Let me kill him!”
    Five months later, George’s stay in two juvenile mental hospitals had given him time to think. With his father serving 15 years in prison for his crimes, he finally had some peace. He had recouped much of his sanity and swore an oath—one he cherished and whispered 1,000 times—writing it down to carry with him always: “If I ever have children, I’ll protect them. They’ll never want for anything. I’ll never strike them in anger or make them suffer. I’ll never let them be touched in an inappropriate manner. My children will NOT suffer like I have.”
    Later, in his adult life, George struggled in his marriage to Abbie’s mother, which caused him to break his oath. Instead of creating a sanctuary of safety, he gave Abbie a broken home. He hated his failure. Worse, he hated taking his daughter back to her mother’s home after their visits. The guilt tore at his heart.
    His apartment was small, a two bedroom flat that had been elegantly decorated by the sweat of others. His hunger for the finer things in life was insatiable. He used others to get what he wanted, including countless women, spending most of his time living in their homes, emotionally tearing away at them until his needs were met. Once he had everything he wanted, he moved on without a goodbye or backward glance.
    George took one final look at his beautiful Abbie, smiled, and pulled her bedroom door shut. Once it was secure, he turned and leaned against the wall.
    “Damn, this is hard,” he mumbled. Rubbing his hands together to try to relieve the stress, he continued. “I won’t lose you, baby girl. I’ll fight. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you with me.” He reached into his front pants pocket and pulled out a summons.
    George knew this would be the last time he would see Abbie until after the hearing. His ex-wife was suing for full custody and planned on moving out-of-state with her future husband. George was running low on the finances