Disclaimer:I do not own any WWE characters from this story. Just my imagination =)

Introduction

The soft sound of rain thumbing against the window was so relaxing to hear as I washed the dirty dishes in my sink. I glanced over at the microwave and saw that it was 7:30pm. He would be home soon…I had to hurry otherwise he would be angry with me…very angry. I hated when he was like that. He always treated me like dirt or a mere plaything ever since my mother left us. I wish she would have taken me along, but the pig headed jerk she was with now made it very clear that he didn't want a child like me living in his house.

Well before I get into this, let me tell you a little about myself. My name is Katrina Evans. I'm currently 16 years old, standing at 5'5'', with long chocolate brown hair and tan skin. My best feature had to be my eyes. They were naturally ice blue but often turned a deeper shade when I was sad. I had a passion for art, mostly drawings and paintings. Most of the time I drew pictures of my favorite WWE wrestlers, the Brother's of Destruction, Undertaker and Kane. I had admired them since Kane first made his debut only a year before my 11th birthday. I wished I had their strength…no one would mess with me then.

Anyways, my story started when I turned 13. It was my birthday…and my mom had just revealed that she had been having an affair with some guy named Christian. I was devastated as I watched her pack her things and leave without so much as saying good-bye. Some mom she was. I thought we were the best of friends. My father and I weren't that close. Most of the time he spent hours arguing with me about absolutely nothing, calling me a slut and a whore just like my mom. Whenever he made me cry, I would run up to my room, lock the door and then hide in my closet where I drew my pictures. I had so many of them along with posters, hoodies, and jackets from the WWE. They always made me feel better…and somewhat safe.

SLAM!

Oh no…here he comes…the man that claims to be my father and yet, treats me like a toy. Things were pretty much verbal with him until I hit 14. He ahd come home one night completely drunk and took…yes, TOOK my innocence from me. At first it only happened once a week, and now it was nearly every day. Soon, it became more than just sex and verbal abuse…there was physical abuse and mental as well. Most of the time, I had to stay with a friend for a night or two just to keep away from him. I know what you're thinking…why not go to the police? Well here's the problem…my father was the chief of police at one point. I never thought anyone would believe me about the person he truly is…until tonight. I was so sick of him coming home and having his way with me…tired of feeling helpless against him. Well…no more.

"Katrina! Daddy's home baby!" he yelled. "I hope you've got those dishes done in there!"

I looked down into the sink which was slowly draining of water. My eyes closed with fear as I heard his footsteps coming closer into the kitchen.

"Ahhh, so you finished them today…well that's good. Now maybe you wouldn't mind giving your daddy some lovin tonight huh?"

I squeezed water out from the rag I used to wash the dishes and then sat it in the corner. I held onto the counter and closed my eyes tighter.

"No daddy."

He chuckled, "What was that?"

I sighed deeply, reached for a small knife that was in the sink still, and turned around to face him. "I said no…"

He cracked a smile and then took a swig of his beer. His long dirty blonde hair hung over his right shoulder as he took a few steps towards me. "Why not?"

"Because I'm your daughter! Not your personal sex slave!" I yelled.

He chuckled before raking his hand through his hair. "I don't care what you want Katrina…you're going to give daddy what he wants whether you like it or not…now come over here and give daddy a kiss."

I gasped and swung my arm at him, slicing him across his chest. He yelped in pain before lounging at me. I moved out of the way and then ran into the living room where I picked up the phone and called 911. Before they picked up, my father had grabbed me by the back of my head, making me drop the phone. He pulled me to the ground where I fought against his advances. He tore off my shirt laughing hysterically over my cries for help.

"Somebody help me please! Dad please don't do this again!" I yelled.

"Oh don't worry baby, I'll be gentle as always he said as he began to stand up, pulling my shorts off as he did so. I tried to crawl away but he kicked me in my already bruised ribs. I screamed in pain and agony just as he dragged me up the steps by my hair. I was so scared at this point…scared that he was definitely going to kill me. Just as we reached the hallway, I heard the front door open violently as police officers invaded our home. My dad still had a hold of my hair as they looked up the steps and spotted us. I sat up and covered my chest just as they came up to arrest him. My hair fell down around me while tears fell from my eyes. One of the officers took off his jacket and put it around my partially naked body. I was happy that they made it there when they did, otherwise…I'd probably be dead.