Chapter 1
I wasn't very old when my mother died.
I dont remember much about her but I do remember her voice.
Soothing bells could be compaired to her singing voice as she sung me to sleep every night.
But her life was soon cut short due to spreading infections from the birth canal caused by the painful process of my birth.
I had caused her pains in the last months of life as her immune system just started to shut as the docters put it.
At the time, I didn't realise the severity of the situation.
I thought that mom would get better, but she never did.
I still held on to hope, until...
My father quickly became a drunk afterwards and earned the fine reputation of being the town drunk.
He hurt me too.
Slapped me around, spit at me, evened blamed me for the death of mother.
I was scared stiff but I didn't know what to do, so, I indured.
That was probably the stupidest thing someone could do.
It would take another years to learn that what my father was doing was wrong at he needed to stop.
I told hm that.
He didn't.
Instead the beatings became more frequent and more violent.
I have bruses everywhere on my body ranging from my face to my feet and legs.
Then, my life took a drastic turn when my body started to mature and dad started to notice his daughter.
One day he grabbed my hair and pulled me into his room where he proceded to have his way with me.
He raped me.
He raped his own daughter.
But he just said that I wasn't even his daughter due to my two tails.
He called me a freak and said that freaks were just property. They had no feelings so you could do anything with them. It don't mean nothin'.
But that wasn't the last, unfortenantly, he didn't stop. He would pull me against my will and take me again and again.
It hurt.
But I had no one to go to for help so I had to stay and try and take it until he got tired and threw me out of the room so he could sleep.
I had no room for myself due to the house having only two rooms, one for the living/ dining room and dad's room.
I would just take mother's quilt and lay down on the brocken couch with it over me.
I felt peaceful. like nothing will ever harm me the next course that was a dream only to stay as a dream.
But I liked to think it could be real.
In my mind I heard the ghostly whisper that seemed to sing a song to me.
I loved to hear the music.
If I could, I would go to town and listen in town square to the were some of the only ones to not seem to hate me for everyone else pushed me around, mostly on purpuse.
But the preformers would nod their heads at me and even pat my pack when I gave them a coin I happened to find lying around in the streets. I was majorly confused at the actions and it would make me ponder until dad wanted his next session.
But the thought would always return to me and I would ponder it somemore until my head would spin around from just thinking too much, too hard.