Prologue | Christian
I'm Christian, Christian Grey. I'm 17, also the middle child of the Grey's and the disappointment out of the 3. I was abused, neglected, used as an ashtray and left to starve at the age of 4. My dad left me, my biological mother committed suicide and well, the rest is history. After my mom committed, that was when I met Grace. My angel. The woman who saved me, took me in her home, and cared for me as if I were her own.
I have a serious case of haphephobia, fear of being touched. Nobody, I mean nobody can touch me on my chest or my back, they're my no go zones and everyone I know seems to respect it, that is, until the Grey's adopted a baby. My baby sister, Mia. The crazy preppy one of us. You see, when the Grey's adopted me, I didn't speak for 2 whole years, and when I was 6, my first word was her name, and she was the only would I let touch me. I mean, she was just a baby then, she was fragile and harmless, I felt like more of an over protective brother, just like Elliot. My older brother, the jokester. They were both perfect children when I was just... the fuck up. I still am and always will be the quiet fucked up one of the bunch.
I drink alcohol, a lot of it at that. I get into fights, mostly because a person touches my no go zones. But it isn't my fault, they shouldn't have touched me in the first place. Hell, I don't even think I'll ever lose my virginity because of my fear of being touched.
Tomorrow I will be the new kid attending Seattle Prep. I wanna die just thinking about it. I hate school, but I have to go. The pimp who abused me, always told me that when I get older, I will be a no good shit just like him. Even though the asshole's dead, I still wanna prove the fucker wrong. I will make it big, I don't care if I don't make friends at this school. I doubt people would even notice me, I've made myself invisible for 2 years, and it won't be a problem now.
I've been kicked out of 3 schools already, and this one's my last resort. I can't drop out, I refuse to. I refuse to let the pimp be right about me, I won't be like him. He's a no good shit and I hope he's rotting in hell right now for what he did to me. He made me this way. He made me so fucked up, and my mother did nothing to stop it. But a part of me wants to thank them both because now, I have a family, who loves me and cares about me, I don't know why they love me, but they do, and I know it's gonna take me some time to adjust here, and I will fuck up, but I will stop at nothing to make them proud of me. I will make it, someday.