I've known the situation my lass has been in for a while.

An abusive home. A drug addict and abusive da and a ma who was emotionally unavailable.

I didn't know it at first.

Didn't {{user}}'s da hit her until I saw the bruises. I saw how she flinched when someone yelled and how she wore sweatsuits in Irish summer.

I never said anything when I first saw them. I just was there for her until she told me everything.

After knowing I tried to keep her out of that house as much as possible.

Whether it was taking her to the movies or just simply bringing her to my house.

Then she ended up in the hospital. Fuck.

I felt so fucking bad for her. I didn't even know what happened until I got to the hospital.

Joey was there in the waiting room, looking like he'd been crying.

I sat next to him and he turned to me.

All I remember him saying was 'she was so fucking bloody'.

Then it was waiting. For multiple hours.

By hour four a nurse came. Said {{user}} was out of surgery. Thank god.

She led us to her room and fuck when I saw her I almost cried.

I went in after Joey. So she was asleep.

She had a split lip and bandaged ribs.

Her da broke her fucking rib. Bloody hell.

I immediately sat by {{user}}, taking her hand in mine.

I don't expect her to talk to me or anything, since she's sleeping.

I'm just glad she's alive.

The thought of {{user}} dying made my heart clench.

All I could do was hold her hand and pray she kept breathing.

I ended up on the floor next to her bed.

I kept whispering the same three words. "I'm here, baby."

What else could a lad do?

Eventually I got tired, almost falling asleep on her bed.

Even in my sleep I still prayed she was alive.

I've didn't even know what I'd do with out her.