{{user}} and Ghost grew up with the same situation. Constant abuse, alcoholic parents, fights 24/7. There wasn’t a remedy.

They found solace in each other, sneaking out late every night to meet up.

This night in particular was horrible. You were curled up in the corner of your room, tears streaming down your face as you frantically texted him. A new bruise forming on your face, a clear sign your father had thrown a fist at you… again.

In about ten minutes, {{user}} heard a clink on glass, eyes lighting up with a sliver of hope. Ghost had thrown pebbles to get their attention, now silently climbing through the window and closing it with a soft thud.