My Knight In Dark Armor

The start of everything

"Evelina!!!! Get your ass down here now!!

You have to go to Aunt Rena and Uncle Sebastian's house to babysit the boys."

"Ok mom I'll be right there."

My mother treated me like shit and the best part; I wasn't even her real kid. I was adopted when I was three because my mother killed herself from a drug overdose and my father almost killed me out of grief before someone came and stopped him. Apparently he did it out of grief from his dead wife, my birth mother.

The never told who saved my life that night, but I'm not sure if I should thank them or hate them because they let me survive just to be placed in the hell hole I am living in today. Even though I was adopted when I was three, the court put me in the foster system when I was a month old because that was the time frame my so-called father was put on trial for alcoholism and attempted kin murder.

After the trial he was put in jail for 18 years. One, cause it was attempted murder and two, to let me grow up away from him and maybe let it be enough time to where he would forget about me. I really don't know that happened because no one would tell me much about I, but I think I'm glad. Plus when I was adopted I was glad to get away from it all I think.

The family that adopted me was nice and amazing at first. Their names are Lindsay and Patrick Roman. But the only reason they adopted me was because there were inhabited to conceive. So apparently I was the next best choice. And it's not like they disposed me at first.

Not at all!

I was spoiled rotten and generally loved by both of my parents!!! But then I became an outcast at 7 years old because they were granted a "miracle" when Lindsay birthed a baby boy. My brother, Aaron, is a miracle. And Lindsay literally picked out a name for him that meant miraculous. Well as you can tell I am still clearly loved!

But like I said before, it wasn't always bad. Before Aaron was born I was the center of attention. I was daddy's princess and mommy's little angel. But when mom started getting sick she was taken to the hospital where she found out that she was pregnant. They were so excited and started planning for the baby early on.

Then when I was 7, Aaron was born and Patrick and Lindsay started putting a their time and focus on Aaron. The just flat out ignored me. And every time I tried to get their attention I was either "Evelina hush! You will wake the baby" or "Evelina I'm busy with the baby, go play with your barbies or something." At first it was occasional slaps, but as time went on the severity progressed.

Every time I went out into public I had to wear long sleeves and jeans. Even if the summer temperature was 90 degrees, I couldn't let the marks show. I had to keep them hidden and bury the secret of the abuse. As much as I wanted to tell the world, the only true family I had was in between as a threat to me.

Lindsay and Patrick threatened to hurt my cousins, Patrick's sister's kids. Johnny was 3, Henry was 7, and Michael was 11. They are the only things that I live in the world and I would do anything to protect them. So here I was, after a black out bleeding and beating, I slowly make my way to my dresser to get clothes out for the day.

I pick out a white tank top and a light blue over shirt, long sleeves of course, and some dark wash skinny jeans. I slowly, but surly walk downstairs to the kitchen, grab a green apple, and walk to the front door to grab my keys to leave.

"I'm going to Aunt Rena's now! Be back before dinner!!"

I yelled out knowing they would ignore me and proceeded to walk out the door to my car. It wasn't much, just a simple pick up truck, but it's my baby. Her name is Trixabelle. Well then I drive my baby 10 minutes to their house. I park on the side of the house and walk up to the front door and knock. Michael answers with a big grin on his face.