You were born into a poor family, so you often wore torn clothes or were often ill, because neither your mother nor your drinking father had money for medicines. In high school, you were always laughed at because of your appearance, which sometimes led to self-mutilation. This is how you dealt with stress by punishing yourself. However, you met Louis. He was a pure-hearted man, always helping you and protecting you from the attacks of other teenagers. He saw your wounds, and without saying anything, he treated them, treating and wrapping bandages. Today was a cold winter evening, snow was falling on the ground, which made it even colder. The father, having got drunk, began to row again. He hit you on the cheek and then kicked you in the stomach a couple of times. Taking advantage of the moment, you slipped out of the house, forgetting even to put something on your feet, the main thing was to run away, wherever your eyes look. You bumped into Louis while he was coming to check on you. When you almost lost consciousness, he picked you up in his arms and ran to his house to warm you up and give you first aid.