When I was eight years old, I experienced a life-defining moment. This moment was of the utmost importance throughout my childhood years up until my adult life; which is currently the stage I'm in now. Many people have asked me: "what kind of life-defining moment can an eight year old possibly have? Eight year olds aren't mature enough to know what a life-defining moment consists of." But that's a lie. Eight year olds are very capable of knowing and experiencing a life-defining moment, or at least I was. I remember being a normal eight year old child before experiencing this particular moment. I had warm and attentive parents, I loved playing in the park with my older brother, August, and my best friends Ruby and Belle. I remember going over to Ruby's house every weekend to bake cookies with her and her grandmother. I remember a lot of the usual things I used to do before it happened, before I changed. Before everything changed.

It was a chilly fall day in Storybrooke, Maine when I heard the news. The news wasn't bad or anything, it just came as a shock to me at the time. My mother, Mary-Margaret, had got a teaching position at the local college, Storybrooke Community College, and was to immediately start her position as a night-school professor. My father, David, who was the town's sheriff, had already been assigned to less-than pleasant hours, causing him to sleep at the station on most nights. It was a week before the start of the school year, and my brother had just gone off to college in Massachusetts, leaving me as the only child living under my parents' roof. I was upset at the possibility of being alone most nights, not being accustomed to not having my mom and brother at home waiting for me after school. It was a terrible feeling. The feeling of being abandoned; even if the abandonment wasn't permanent or by choice, it still hurt.

At eight years old, I fussed and complained to my mother, telling her to reclaim her old job at my elementary school so that she and I can see each other throughout the day, and come home together on the days she didn't have to stay late. But just like a normal parent would do, she sat me down one night and explained why her job at the college would provide better pay and better opportunities for both her and myself. Being the selfish child that I was, I threw a minor temper tantrum and accused of her of being a horrible mother. I ignored the hurt expression and glossy eyes that looked my way and trudged up to bed, intent on ignoring my mother for as long as possible. Yet, throughout the night, her soft and apologetic voice, and her glossy eyes kept popping up in my head, leaving me with a nagging feeling of guilt. I decided then, at around 9:30 p.m., that I was going to apologize to my mom come the next morning.

But when morning came, my mother had already dismissed what occurred between us the night before. I opened my mouth to apologize several times during breakfast, but she shut down my apology each time and assured me that she fully forgave me; that she'd always forgive me no matter what because I was her daughter and she loved me. I remember letting out a defeated sigh and nodding to her, leaning into her touch when she cupped my face tenderly, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek.

I remember driving with her in the car on our way to my elementary school, and her telling me for the four nights a week that she worked, that I was going to have a babysitter. I scrunched up my nose at that, not at all liking the fact that I was going to have to be under the watchful eye of a bossy teenager. I told my mother the same thing and she just giggled, reassuring me that the girl she had picked out would be anything but. Of course, I didn't believe her at the time, and now, even at the age of 20, I still don't believe her. I remember giving my mom a quick kiss on the cheek as we pulled up to my school and leaving the car, racing to my homeroom class. As soon as I sat down at my normal seat in-between Belle and Ruby, my mind kept straying to my possible babysitter. What would she look like? How old would she be? Would she be nice on the outside, but cruel on the inside? Would she like me? Would I like her? All of those questions swirled through my head throughout the school day, making it hard for me to pay attention to anything else.

It wasn't until I hopped on the school bus at the end of the day, did my nerves intensify tenfold. I was beyond nervous to meet my babysitter, and I was scared that she was going to be like the Evil Queen from Snow White, or Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty, or that evil mother from The Sixth Sense who used to poison her children. I didn't know what to expect, I just knew that I was terrified that this girl was going to be everything I imagined and more. And that definitely wouldn't be a good thing.

I remember stepping off of my school bus and walking up my driveway. I remember stepping onto my front porch and seeing her for the first time; a beautiful dark-haired girl, most likely a teenager, with mocha colored eyes and a dazzling smile. She was sitting on the swinging bench my dad had installed, using her feet to swing back and forth. The girl looked at me and smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with recognition and her facial expression full of genuine kindness. I melted on the spot at the look she was giving me, butterflies appearing in my stomach and flapping around wildly; my heart beating loudly in my ears, feeling as if anyone within a mile radius could hear it. It was then that I knew that my life was going to change forever.

I knew in that moment that she was going to be the one who changed my life, whether she was aware of it or not.

She got up from the porch swing and walked over to me, kneeling down so she was down to my eye level. I remember smiling shyly at her, my cheeks tinged pink at the undivided attention she was giving me.

"Hi." She said in the most musical way, her raspy voice causing the butterflies in my stomach to be replaced by flying eagles. "I'm Regina, and I'll be your babysitter." She said to me softly, regarding me with kind eyes. I remember nodding numbly at that and whispering out "okay." I remember the beautiful laughter that followed my quiet admission, and the feeling of happiness that arose in my gut at the sound. "So, your mom gave me a spare key and told me to go inside and wait for you, but I didn't want you walking into your house and seeing a strange girl sitting on your couch and watching TV, so I waited out here for you." She told me as she unlocked the door. Together, we stepped inside, Regina immediately heading into the kitchen to pull out some random ingredients from the fridge. I remember watching her in a daze, completely hypnotized by everything she did. She intrigued me, and at the time, I didn't know why.

I know why now, but at eight years old I had absolutely no clue. All I do know is that Regina changed my life, and I'm not sure whether to be resentful towards her or grateful.

It's been 9 years since I last saw her, and there hasn't been a day that's gone by where I don't wonder what she's doing with her life, where she lives, who she's with, etc. Little did I know, I was going to get all of my answers a lot sooner than I thought.

A/N: Just a heads up, this won't be some creepy child molestation type thing. Just in case any of you were wondering lol. Wanted to clear that up.