chapter two

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I woke up to the sound of someone screaming but to who or what. I figured it was Kathryn yelling at me for something I didn't do. 

"  skyler wake up, wake up!"

"What do you want." I moaned .

I realized it was Faye yelling at me to wake up. I loved her so much she was like a sister I never had. She had long blonde wavy hair, dark blue eyes with long eye lashes she was really pretty.

Prettier then me. She was only a year older then me so she was 15 I was 14,about to be 15 in a week. I had brown hair that was wavy to but it didn't look good. And I had bright blue eyes.

"Skyler you have to get up and dressed its adoption day!" she yelled into my ear making my ear drums bleed.

Man she has a loud voice.

"Yes Skyler I already know that!"

Crap did I say that out loud?

"Yes you did!"

There I go again saying my thoughts aloud.

Well anyways you've probably already figured out that  i'm in an orphanage in Dallas Texas. I've lived here for seven almost eight years. My parents died when I was seven.

"Ok I will get up, but first you need to get off of me."

She was sitting on my stomach and slapping my face around. Not hard though to leave marks but soft enough to wake me up.

After she got up off of me I went and grabbed the clothes I was gonna wear and ran to the showers.

Luckily nobody else was in here. Now I won't have to worry about anyone seeing my scars. Kathryn was so cheap she didn't worry about getting shower curtains. I am worried that someone is going to find out that i cut. Only Faye knows. I turned the water on and did my thing.

I wrapped the towel around me and ran to the room that was made for changing and got dressed.

I had dressed into the only pair of jeans I had and some old ratty converse and a fitted t-shirt I had begun on my hair. I blow dried it straight and pinned my hair back.

I checked myself in the mirrior making sure I was suitable enough to go down stairs to try to be adopted. Notice the word TRY. I never get adopted anymore. I was adopted once when I was 10. They brought me back once they noticed I cut.

*flashback* 

"Skyler where are you!" My "father" yelled.

I was hiding from him. I was terrified of him. He was always drunk and already short tempered. After yelling for me in the past five minutes he barged into my room. I quickly ran and hid into my bathroom and acted like I was brushing my teeth with the arm I didn't just cut.

"Skyler what are you doing!"

"B-brushing my T-teeth" I stuttered hiding the arm that I had recently just cut behind my back.

"What's behind your back?" I didn't want to answer him. His words always sounded so cold and bitter. He never showed any emotions.

"SKYLER! ANSWER ME!"

Knowing that I had to tell him as I already pissed him off I told him that it was my arm. He didn't believe me and grabbed it right where I had cut it. It stung really bad. He had a really firm grip.

"Tell me the truth!" His breath reeked of alcohol.

His grip got tighter making my arm go numb. I tried to get out of his grip but thatn only made it worse. He pulled me down the stairs and out into the backyard.  Thats where he always beat me.

He yanked my arm so hard it dislocated. In the end I came back into the house where the mother was with a black eye a dislocated arm and bruises all over my body and not to mention an huge bruise where my arm was cut and held.

Apparently the mother watched it all. Right then and there she took off the ring and walked out of his life. Of course she took me to the hospital and back to the orphanage.  On the way to the hospital all she said was sorry and that she loved me.

psh if she loved then why would she take me back to the orphanage.

*out of flashback* 

that's why I started cutting. he treated me like I was some worthless piece of shut.

He abused me when his wife wasn't home. He told me if I told anything about that he would hurt me even more.

So here I am.

 

~~~~~~~~~

a/n

hey guys I told you my chapters will be longer. anyways tell me how this story is going. if you wanna a chapter dedicated to you just comment or inbox me.  

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