I don't know how to start off talking about my life, so how about I just be honest with everyone.
I'm 16, my name is Katianna Mathews, and I'm kind of a little bitch. Oh, I also have a pretty fucked up story of my life to tell you.
Let's start off with the beginning of my life, shall we?
When I was born, I lived with my mother and grandma in an apartment. My mom was working a lot to support us, so my grandma took care of me while she was at work.
My father had left before I was born, Im almost positive my mom left him though. He was basically just an abusive piece of shit.
We went from appartement to appartement until I was around 7, and we moved to a house that my mom bought. It was then that she had met my step father, and they fell in love and got married.
About a year of them being together he moved in with his son, he was three years younger than me. My grandma bought a trailer, and parked it in our front yard.
Me and my step brother slept in the trailer at night so my parents could get up in the morning at 5am to go to work. My grandma helped us get to school.
When I was around 11, we bought a house in a relatively big town. I moved a little before Christmas. The house was three stories, and I changed schools. When I was 12-13 I did a lot of online talking and met a man.
He was 23, and he lived in my state around 4 hours away. I had decided in my little naive head that I was in love with him, and he was coming to town for the week so I had asked him to come see me.
I told my mom I was going to hang out with my best friend at the time, Mariah, at the park. She lived awhile down the street.
It was there that we met, and he raped me In the woods.
When I was 14, I met another man on the internet. His name was Ben, and he lived in England. We dated for a couple of months before we had both decided he should come here and stay with me for a week. We would finally meet in person.
Ben was 17. We had a lot of fights, but we always eventually made up. He started them, accusing me of cheating on him and not loving him.
Long story short, he came for a week to my house from England, and my mom said he was allowed to stay another week. I thought our relationship was normal, but he was verbally abusive.
It wasn't until the third visit that we had taken each others virginity, I was 15.
The fourth visit is where everything changed. I didn't want to have sex one day, but he did. So, we had sex, I did it for him.
He raped me multiple times a day, and started to physically abuse me.
It wasn't until the seventh visit that I decided enough is enough, and I broke up with him a week before he was supposed to come over.
Before we had broken up, he had decided that he was going to study abroad for my junior year of high school.
Several months later, I had sex with around five people willingly and became a bit of a slut. It wasn't until the beginning of my Junior year of summer when I decided I was going to find someone who would treat me right and stop fucking randoms for sexual pleasure.
I needed affection, touch, love. I craved it.
I was diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety when I was 15. It must have been from Ben, he put me down all the time, and now I hate myself.
I had relationships with a couple of people, none really serious.
It wasn't until lately that I got into drugs, go figure. With my fucked up life that's what I need.
