Authors Note

Thanks to RosalieHale1997 to giving me the name to this story. This might be my final story. But I am going to finish the other ones.

Chapter 1

I was shaking. I didn't want to go home. In my opinion I didn't have a home. A home is a place with a loving family and a warm bed to sleep in. My 'home' is just somewhere to sleep until I can escape. Far away from the pain and misery I call my family.

I didn't want to walk back into the hands of my drunk parents and my abusive sister. Somewhere where I was their little doll.

My parents never cared for me. My sister Cynthia was always the golden girl. I was someone to pick on.

I shouldn't of been born. Thats what my father always told me. And when he abused me my mother told me to shut up and get on with it.

Cynthia's usual night is to get drunk and beat me. I had to go to hospital once. She got angry at me and got me on the floor and kept kicking me. Went up with 2 broken ribs and a fractured pelvic bone.

My mother said that I wouldn't be good for anyone. That the first person that wanted to marry me I should take it as there would be no better for me. I should take it like a good wife, no matter what they do.

I had no friends. My grades kept dropping at school as I spent too much time trying to cover up the bruises that were more noticeable, on such things as my face hands and neck.

I also had to walk the 3 miles to school.

This made people talk. My excuse was that I needed to lose weight.

But I'm completely honest with myself theres nothing to me. I had serve everyone else and had to eat when no-one was around.

I was a good for nothing little girl who would never live up to anything. I would be abused and raped every night because I didn't deserve much better.

The school had called my parents in many of times for my lateness and my declining grades but they just said that they didn't know what was wrong with me and they would try and sort it out.

When they bought me home, I got beaten. I should of done better. I should of done well at school, like Cynthia did.

They had put the fear of the dark into me. Every time I was led in bed, my father would come in and rape me.

I would sit and cry for hours.

But they didn't care. They just wanted someone to take their anger out on.

When they were drunk they would do all sorts to me.

I got scared when the door slammed after they had come home from the pub. If their dinner wasn't on the table I would get beaten.

If they weren't happy with the state of the house I would get beaten.

Not the kind of life you want to live.