The Love That Was Never Aloud

Chapter 1 - The Past

Here's my never ending story...

I'm 15, 16 in January.

My names Maddison Raymond.

I didn't have the best up bringing to be blunt. When I was about six or seven my mum and dad got a divorce. It was a pretty big thing at the time for me with my little immature mind but I believe to this day that's why I can hardly love or become close. It'll become more clear as the story grows. after the divorce was official I decided to live with my mum, the only reason was because I hardly knew my dad. He was a business man. I think he cheated with a colleague or assistant but I rarely visit him and I don't think my mum will ever be completely fine discussing the subject as to this day its still hard for her to talk about seen as she hasn't moved on. My mum started getting very depressed. And turned to alcohol meaning she got very snappy, you would think she'd think before she acts upon an eight year old but she never did. this was the year she started abusing me...2008. I thought it helped mum, letting her anger out made her be calm for the rest of the night/day. The lash outs become more aggressive, it wasn't just words.
I once got ragged across the floor by my hair cause I forgot to put my bag in the hall. It started to be little petty things that would make her tick. She started to become my worst enemy. She scared me. I didn't tell anybody because I honestly thought she'd stop. but it didn't...In fact she got worse. Work was just stressing her out to much so she took to smoking, she had when I was very young (around 2-4) but stopped because my dad insisted it wasn't good for her.
I was an only child so I had no older sister or brother to go running too to defend me... Just her and me stuck in a shithole of a house together. I began staying in my room a lot more, expressing my art alone my walls. And developed a love for music by this time I was about ten.
Experiencing abuse was horrible, it was so degrading.
She would whip me with her belt;  Attack me with things like my bag, basically anything around her. It started to show, maybe once or twice a week id get a handful of scratches and maybe a bruise but that was really it. It then escalated from then on to being about a handful of bruises and one or two scratches.
My mum started to become paranoid about people finding out. She was so close once,  she pushed me down the stairs at the age of eleven...I broke my leg in two different places. I was screaming with pain.  She was screaming at me back saying things like "You're worthless!!", "Nobody would even care!!" She slapped me to shut me up. It definitely slapped my love for her out of me. She left it about ten to fifteen minutes for her to eventually send me to the hospital. They asked her how I broke my leg, she told them a bunch of lies. This is what annoys me to this day, I had a chance to spill everything, get her in prison for abuse but I was too afraid. She said I tripped over my bag at the top of the stairs and when I fell I whacked my side of my face on one of the steps. When I got send home with a huge cast on my leg I couldn't really do anything never mind get up and down the stairs unattended.  I tried to go upstairs three days after the 'accidental' injury. I struggled to go past the fifth step, I was stuck in the most painful position. It was by far the most agonizing thing I've had to deal with and I didn't have any painkillers to take to help me feel numb.

About a week later I was sitting on the couch watching a documentary, I was one of those types of kids. I'd heard my mum losing her temper about something silly obviously I was involved in this kick off.  She was sick of the house being a mess and told me to get my coat of the couch and to put it on the banister. But with my now broken leg it was more complicated to get up and do things fast. But I managed to get up but as soon as I was on my feet she bursted into the room with a  look of pure hatred.

" why is your coat still on the couch!" She yelled at me

"Sorry mum I was just trying to get up" I said trembling with every word.

"LIAR!! you and this television urgh you never listen to me!!" She grabbed the remote of the living room table and threw it at my cast! I screamed in agony! The pain went up and down my leg. I dropped to the floor holding back my tears until she left.

"Never lie to me ever again, young lady who do you think you are!" And she stormed out of the room.

I started to become self conscious, and eventually developed signs of anxiety. by this point I was covered in bruises, nothing new to my eyes but still my mum was worried about the other eyes who don't see what she does. I wasn't a very sporty girl, it was never my type of thing. considering I was already at a low weight of six stone I convinced myself sport wasn't for me and to give it up. Completely my own decision but mum agreed and always had excuses after excuses for  P.E. 
She then started to force me into basic cover up long clothes like:  Long tops; Jeans or pants (no shorts) or if I managed to convince her enough for a skirt i had to wear tights. No ifs no buts- They were the rules.

I decided to tell someone,  I couldn't keep living like this..

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i hope you enjoyed my first chapter of my new story 'my never ending story' its basically a story about a girl who is experiencing abuse at this part of the story. i promise it will get better please comment vote and follow please bye ;)