For the love of Brooklyn

I was only 5 years old when I met my best friend Niall. I was swinging on the swing and my abusive dad pushed me off the swing and runaway like he didn't do it and left me there. That night I knew I was going to have to sleep at the park. Until a small boy with piercing blue eyes come over to me and helped me stand up. "Are you okay?" He asked. His Irish accent made me feel comfortable around him. He gave me a hug and spoke. " I saw what that man did to you. " I looked up at him, tears were slowly falling from my eyes as I thought about my father. "Please don't cry" he whispered as he tightened his grip. "I'm Niall by the way." He said "Brooklyn, but you can call me Brooke." I replied.

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