prologue

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August 30, 1999

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August 30, 1999

I stood in front of the mirror in my room, adjusting my new uniform. My skirt was neatly pressed and fell just above my knees.

As I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, my eyes wandered down to the scar on my lower stomach.

It's a thick tan line, not really noticeable to anyone else but me.

Whenever I catch a glimpse of it, it pulls me back to that day when I was six.

It's more than just a scar.

it's a reminder of what I've been through and how far I've come. It's a part of my story that only I can fully understand.

It was also just a painful reminder of the past.

I was only six years old when it happened. My Da, in a moment of uncontrollable anger, had stabbed me.

He always had whiskey tantrums, but that one was the worst one.

Th pain hurt like hell, but it was the emotional wound that had left the deepest scar.

I remembered the confusion and fear, the way my small world had crumbled in an instant.

He told me he loved me and I would be his little girl forever.

And then he tried to kill me.

I shook off the memory, focusing instead on getting ready.

I had come so far since that day, overcoming countless obstacles to reach this point.

BCS was a new beginning, a place where I could redefine myself away from the shadows of my past.

I took a deep breath, straightened my tie, and smoothed down my skirt.

With one last look at my reflection, I suddenly felt scared.

The scar was a part of me, that's what scared me the most.

If somebody saw it, they would ask questions.

I didn't want anyone asking questions.

I wasn't strong, and I wasn't ready to face any sort of challenges.

Instead of standing infront of my mirror any longer, I grabbed my bag, opened the door, and stepped out of my room.

I'm nervous.

















I'm nervous

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