It was the beginning of the school year, she walked into the classroom, the lights hovered above her gorgeous hair. I was on the hunt for her, I wanted her to be mine. I gathered information about her from other classmates around the whole school.

She hasn’t had the life we teenagers need at this age. She was the only sister within the four brothers she had. Father was gone, or dead. Either one, it doesn’t make much things better. Her mother sells Marijuana to teenagers in the neighborhood, as well as her brothers. She lived in the “hood” of town, she was sucked into the enviroment her family gave her. Drugs and Alchohol was threatening her future. She has lived two years into this lifestyle of constant fights, drugs, alchohol, and “partying.” I wanted to change her for what any girl deserved.

I liked her for who she was. Some brutality was flowing in her eyes throughout miniscule moments, but beneath the brutality shows the braveness of a girl screaming to get out of the world she calls “hell.” She wanted a savior, I applied for the job. I was there.

It took me two months to get beneath her skin and to actually understand my words. She had the strength to leave the pot life. She went from smoking a dime or two a day and drinking enough to get drunk for two days to studying daily and tackling life from the good side. I helped her, and maybe even saved her.

I have thought constantly what girls I liked. The answer has been infront of me for the past two months. I liked the girls that NEEDED to get changed. Call me a savior or call me anything else. I changed something that someone thought was unchangeable.