1. Mia's POV
I've always lived in England. Or so my mum says. In a small apartment in the middle of one hell of a busy city, London is our idea of home. With ripped curtains and beanbags for sofas, you would say we were poor. But it's enough. It's always been enough.
My mum's promise to me when I was younger was that she'd give me a good life. That despite our money problems and whatever else stood in the way, she would protect me from it all. That we'd learn to deal with it, so she could give me what she's always wanted: success.
And I've never doubted it.
I've always wondered why she doesn't think she succeeded though. Every mother in the universe looks down at their child with a heartfelt smile, telling themselves everything was worth it to bring another soul into the world.
But not my mum.
I've never heard the words 'I'm glad you're here' or words that similarly tell me she's pleased with the outcome of me. I want her to be proud of me; look down at me and smile at her creation. But I figure she's just different to other parents.
All every kid wants is a mother to protect them, and that's all my mum ever does. Therefore I can't complain. I never complain. All my thoughts are pushed to the back of my mind and I always carry on with the life my mother wants for me.
But when one day I wake up to a suitcase sitting before me, and my mum, wide-eyed, next to it, I know something's gone terribly wrong. Being just the two of us, we've always managed to work things out. I know I don't have a father figure - and some say it's wrong - but I know it's just because we had no choice. Mum has always refused to tell me the truth, says it will protect me if I don't know. But it's obvious. He left us because he didn't love her and I wasn't a good enough result. Still, that's never been enough to stop us. Fourteen years of my life and nothing has ever happened between me and my mum.