Hey guys. This is my first post in a while. Lots of crap just happened to me, so I'm abandoning my stories. I wanted to write this angsty thing to clear out the rest of my pathetic sadness so I can move on and accept all the stuff that happened. I don't feel like wasting the space explaining it here, so if you're curious, look up my apology titled "I'm Sorry". You guys deserve an explanation for my absence. I'm really sorry, but this is all that's left. I just need to channel my sadness into my writing so I can heal and maybe someday soon I'll be able to write happy things again. I don't know where this story will go, so please understand and don't expect much. This is dedicated to anyone who has had suicidal thoughts ever. I'm glad you're still here. Without further adue, (for old times sake)

On with the story. Huzzah!

Summer Rain

(Pretend Wendy's shirt is long sleeved ALL the time. It just helps the story make more sense. This is a trigger story and if you are sensitive, spare yourself the trouble of reading it. I appreciate it if you were even interested enough to click on it)

Wendy Blerble Corduroy

Cool. Laid back. Tough. Responsible. That's what everyone thought of Wendy Corduroy. She was the beautiful lumberjack's daughter with 3 younger brothers to take care of. The 15 year old who had a job at the Mystery Shack. The beautiful girl that stole Dipper Pines's heart.

This made it all the more terrible when he found the scars. She had a scar just above her eyebrow that looked like a childhood accident. But Dipper knew better. He felt in his gut it was the reason Wendy didn't like to be touched too often, the reason why she wore her hat, and the reason she never EVER let anyone touch her head.

This wasn't the scar he was worried about. He was worried about the ones he'd seen when they were in the bunker; when Wendy took her flannel off and her arms were displayed. To his shock and horror, Wendy had tiny cuts all over her wrists.

The young mystery hunter and part time adventurer was too stunned to react (not to mention busy trying to defeat a shapeshifter) at the time of his worst discovery yet. Her confession, "Okay, I'm not actually layed back. I'm stressed, like, 24/7. Have you met my family?" shook the boy to his core.

What most people didn't know about Wendy is that her mother was an abusive drunk who would beat her children every night. Her only daughter was her main target. Wendy had to undergo this cruel punishment from the ages of 4 to 10. On Wendy's 11th birthday, her mother left for the bar after cutting her forehead (hence the scar). She didn't come back. Four years later she was the designated "female figure" of the family. She did all of the chores (some that stereotypically fell onto the women, some that honestly would be more suitable for her brothers of father) and took care of the family.

Living one life can do more then stress the average person out at times. Living three different lives was nearly impossible on her; really a feat in itself. There was the cool, laid-back, and frankly awesome Wendy who would romp around town with friends; the calm, collected, and motherly Wendy who took care of the family, and the conflicted Wendy who didn't know where to turn. This last one is what pushed her to cut.

But Dipper knew that none of these were the real Wendy. The real Wendy was a fantastic mix of the three. She was cool, caring, awesome, level-headed, and weary behind those beautiful emerald green orbs. Dipper knew that he would bring the true Wendy out if it killed him, and he was going to start by confronting her. Right now.