It all started with that night. It was cold and wet, and you could hardly see a metre in front of you. I didn't expect to see anyone, so needless to say, when I heard your sobs I went to investigate. It was that part of town, so I thought it was just a poor lady being slapped about by her man. My own pap used to do the same; he'd toss my mum around like a rag doll. She was a small, nice lady; too good for my no-good, alcoholic of a father. I hated men like that, so you can understand my concern. But instead of finding a bruised black and blue, sobbing mess of a lady; I found you. Your clothes were completely soaked and ruined, but you could still see they were good quality. Expensive, really. You asked for help, and I was gonna say no, but then I saw your face. It was the same tired face my mum would put on when she told me my bedtime story, right after my pap knocked her one. So I took you in. I thought nothing of it at the time. We were complete opposites; and besides, I'd never liked girls like you. Little did I know that I'd fall for you. Those stolen, precious moments that we had. It was only when I almost lost you that I realised: I love you, Missy. I love that little birthmark behind your hip; and the freckles on your ears. I love how you fold your clothes when you're stressed, and how I can always count on you to bluff your way out of anything. But most of all, I love how, no matter how messed up everything is, you can always find a solution to everything. I love you Missy, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, will you marry me?
Hey, readers! So when my mum read this through, she commented on the language. Just so you guys know, the person was raised in the rough areas and speaks vulgar, everyday language.