My mum died when I was four years old. It was a month before my fifth birthday and I have just recently found out from a family friend that my mum had bought me a beautiful life size doll with long chestnut hair and green eyes. She was hiding it in her wardrobe and was very excited about giving it to me on my fifth birthday. My mum never got to give me the doll and I never got to see it. It must have been destroyed in the house fire, along with everything else that I held dear to me. My mum was killed by a man who came knocking on her door asking for lodgings. He was a bad man who had done bad things and his intentions were bad on the day my mum let him into our home. My mum was a good, kind woman whose intentions were good but very sadly the two worlds collided and the outcome was horrendous. After my mum died I woke up in a hospital …