I was only nine years old. I loved Shrek so much, I had all the merchandise and movies. I'd pray to Shrek every night before I go to bed, thanking for the life I've been given. "Shrek is love", I would say, "Shrek is life". My dad hears me and calls me a queer. I knew he was just jealous for my devotion of Shrek. I called him a jellyface. He slaps me and sends me to go to sleep. I'm crying now and my face hurts. I lay in bed and it's really cold. A warmth is moving towards me. I feel something touch me. It's Shrek. I'm so happy. He whispers in my ear, "This is my swamp". He grabs me with his powerful ogre hands, and puts me on my hands and knees.