I am an experienced editor and ghost writer. I attach some pages from my current assignment with tracked changes turned on\He continued his disturbing tale, saying: It was sad to see my mom leave at night to work. My father was a drug dealer – abusive, manipulative, a man who was feared wherever he set his foot. Mom got used to the black eye she usually suffered and mastered a way to conceal it with make-up. In time she grew hard, and her respect for him faded away. Dad roamed the streets like a big-time mafia Mobster.
The man loved me, he loved me hard-core. He beat me up like a man and f\ound all the right reasons to make his point. Mom would want to hold me as I cried while he slapped me several times. “He's a man, don’t make a sissy out of him!” Dad would say. Although most of the time he provided my pocket money. I now I now understand the meaning of the word combination bitter-sweet. Sometimes I felt if I only had the strength I would kill him myself. For Mom took the brunt of his abuse. When she screamed “Please don’t hit my son, our son!” he slammed her head against the wall until the blood dripped, and I had to witness this.
I started a habit of grinding my teeth, which Mom despised. She explained it a few times, saying that it was caused by nerves. I tried to stop it, but then developed a new thing – a continuous tic in my eye. There was always something happening in my face, it even irritated me at times, and the more I tried to stop the worst it seem