I was only 9 years old.
I loved Shrek so much, I had all the merchandise and movies.
I pray to Shrek every night, thanking him for the life I’ve been given. “Shrek is love” I say, “Shrek is life."
My dad hears me and calls me a bad boy. I knew he was just jealous of my devotion to Shrek.
I called him a bad dad.
He hits me and sends me to sleep.
I'm crying now and my face hurts.
I lay in bed, really cold. I feel something warm...
It's Shrek! I was so happy.
He whispers in my ear "This is my swamp."