Prologue

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Warning:

This story is not suitable for people under 15. There is a lot of coarse language, drug references, violence and sexual themes. Read with caution as this story is not a happy one. If you find child abuse offensive I recommend that you do not read the first few chapters as they are full of it.

This story is copyrighted. Please do not copy or plagiarize this story or legal action will be taken against parties responsible.

Prologue

”You ungrateful bitch I made you dinner because your mother asked me to because she was out and you feed it to your mutt!” my father yelled before he lifted me up by the scruff of my shirt. He formed a fist, drew his hand back and hit me. I fell to the ground on impact but also because my father let go of my shirt.

I felt my cheek sting and knew I that it was starting to swell. How was it my fault that I fed the dog my food because that was the only thing that it was good for? The sausages were black, and when I say black I mean it. You couldn’t cut them in half even they were that hard. The only reason that my dog Lollypop ate it was that she was always hungry as my father refuse to buy more than one big six kilogram bag of food every two months. He thought that it was a waste of money even that much and that I shouldn’t be allowed to keep “The Mutt” as he puts it and that I should get a job and give him all the money because he was apparently the only on that earned money to keep the dog but it was mum that payed for Lollypop’s food and everything else. My father never spent a cent on me he wasted it all on alcohol and things for work that he doesn’t really need.

 I was brought out of my thoughts when I was wrenched up by my hair. “You will listen to me when I talk to you little slut,” he screamed at me. I started to cry. I tried to blink my tears back but they just kept rolling down my cheeks. I fled to my room where I stayed until Mum came home. It felt like it took around twelve hours for her to get home.

As soon as I heard Mum pull into the driveway I sprinted downstairs and into the garage. I had never been so happy to see her. “Mum, he hit me because I gave his burnt food to Lollypop because it was black all the way through,” I sobbed as I grabbed hold of her. She instantly wrapped her arms around my waist and started rub my back. “Shhh, its ok everything will be okay.

That was the start of the abuse my father inflicted on me and it only became worse when Mum said something to him.

I jolted awake to my alarm ringing. I twisted in my bed so I could look at my clock. It read 6:30 am; I groaned and lifted myself into a sitting position. I then swung my legs onto the floor and went to my wardrobe to pick out an outfit for the day.

I grabbed a black skirt, purple t-shirt and a pair of sandals. It was my birthday after all not like I was going to get anything but that’s no reason not to look good on your birthday.

I went down to the park to meet some of my friends. But there was no one there. No children playing on the swings. No children using the slide and other equipment. Where was everyone?

There is absolutely no one around. A chill went down my spine and I turned around to find some man walking toward me. I didn’t know what to do. Do I run? Do I stay here? Do I scream?

I decided that running and screaming were my best options. So I fled toward home throat burning from all the screaming but I continued to scream all the way down the street. I ran inside and slammed to door behind me.

“What’s wrong Elaina?” my mother asked. ”There was no one at the park and then there was this man, he started coming toward me and I was scared so I started running home,” I told Mum in one breath.

Mum wrapped her arms around me and gave me a tight hug. “It’s ok everything is alright,” she soothed as I cried into her shoulder. She rubbed my back until my father arrived home.

“What are you crying about you little whore?” my father yelled as he pulled me up by my hair. “Robert leave her be she was being stalked by some man down at the park,” my mother told him. “Kerry stay out of this she doesn’t need your support when she is crying. Crying is weak and no one in this family should cry in public whether we are at home or not.”

Well that was my father for you always wanting everyone to see the perfect family that we weren’t. We had to always look the part of the perfect family. When in reality we were far from perfect. I had an abusive father, a mother who never said anything to him because it would just make him take it out worse on me and then start on her.

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