The Beginning of it All

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*(A/N)-this is all in Katlyn's pov*

I grew up living with my mother and stepfather like every other family, the thing was we were nowhere near a normal family. My mother made me learn how to use ever weapon under the sun. You may think that's normal-ish, but my mother beat me every time I did something wrong or not perfect enough, also the weapons started at around 3 years old. Then my stepfather would drink and drink and when he wasn't out of the house drinking or doing who knows what, he was beat me. He'd use me as an ash tray, he would break bear bottles on me and laugh as I bled. They would tell me the pain was their way of love, it was their way of preparing for the world and making sure I was strong enough. Then when I was 6 my mother passed away, I thought that things might change my stepfather would cease to hurt me or at least lessen the extent, but it seemed like he did it more. Then he married a god awful woman that beat me too, and so did her retched son. Every day I would wake up to my stepmom poring ice water on top of me then slapping me cause I was a "lazy ungrateful child", then my stepfather and stepbrother would take turns beating me through out the day. At the end of every day I would go stitch up any deep cuts and clean any scrapes. I never cried because tears, to me, were a waste of time. I stopped crying at around 6 because I had finally gave up believing that life would get any better so I never cried. That to me was how life was, I never lived any other way. The only way was to survive. I learned to only trust myself with every thing, and to only rely on myself for any help or guidance, and I also learned that pity is a myth.





* hope you liked it please comment or like. Also sorry in advance for any grammar errors. This is also my first story on Wattpad so I REALLY hope you liked it. I will try to add more ASAP but you know how school and life are soooooo ya :)

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