Forced [Completed]

Chapter 5

A/N: There are two things i would like to say. First off. I'm sorry i haven't updated in two days. Kind of have been depressed that's all. Secondly! This chapter will have abusive content. If you don't like that then please skip this chapter! Carry on!

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Mac's PROV

I freeze, this i have never told anyone other than Jamie. I panic inside. What will he think? But i guess here it goes. Be brave Mac! Be brave!

"Well i was born in London on October 9th, 1995. My mum was a crack addict and my dad abused us. Ever since i could talk he would hurt me-"

*FLASHBACK*

"MAC GET YOU UGLY AS OVER HERE!" My dad yelled.

"Y-yes daddy?" I say timidly.

"I need you." He said sexually.

I knew what was going to happen. I thought all dads were like this. He child would be forced into sex at a young age. Except mine was at the age 5. I was only 6 now. He would only do this when mum was to high to function. She would always tell me i deserved it.

"Pl-please don't daddy. I still hurt." I begged, which was true. He did this almost every night. It was painful.

"I don't care. Don't be a baby! Now take you clothes off now!" He roared.

As i took my clothes off i would whimper in pain. But i have come to thought that i deserved it.

*END OF FLASHBACK. START OF ABUSIVE STORY*

When I was four years old, my dad took to beating me. He would find the most minor infractions and make me stand there while he thrashed me with his belt.

When he did it, he would tell me the whole time how I deserved it, and how I shouldn't have made him do it. He would carefully call it "spanking" instead of "belting" or "beating" because then when I went to my mother to cry, I would tell her that he spanked me. She would look at me and say, "What did you do to?"

So from a very young age I was taught that what I suffered was my own fault.

This abuse was minor, but I think it primed me for what was to come. He taught me that no one would believe me, and that adults had the power.

My dad taught me that I was a victim, and gave me the necessary insecurities that would let my second abuser run roughshod over my childhood.

I clearly remember the first time he made me uncomfortable. We were sharing a room at a campsite where my family was staying; there weren't enough beds in the rooms for us to have our own rooms, and my mother was off doing something else on the camp.

He began tickling me, and I squirmed and squealed and fell across his lap. I was so trusting. It's really sad.

Out of the blue, he took my hand, and he put it on the bulge in his pants. I froze, confused, immediately aware that something was wrong, and looked up at him slowly.

He shrugged and gave me this ridiculous irresponsible grin and said, "I just wanted to see what you'd do." It was all a game to him then.

Toward the end of his stay with my family, he began to get bolder. I suppose before that, he thought that if I only touched myself and he only touched himself, he wasn't doing anything wrong.

But it wasn't enough for him. He began to wrestle with me and try to force my head toward his crotch, grabbing my hair and holding on.

It took me years to be able to stand anyone touching the back of my head. I used to get so angry whenever someone touched my hair.

When i was 7 years old i had just entered 1st grade. I remember how excited i was to start. To my dismay that it would be the worst year of my life.

*FLASHBACK TO 1ST GRADE*

"Okay today we are going to do book it books!" Ms. McCray said.

We were all excited to do this. We were little and we thought we were 'big kids' getting to read.

I got a dinosaur book. It was a child's books so it was easy for me to read.

"Okay class you have one week to finish your book!" The teacher said.

-later that week-

"Mummy, I cant find my book!" I cried.

"Go look for it." She said obviously.

"I did mumma!"

"Go look for it again then i will help you find it."

I looked and looked but couldn't find it. My mum came and helped me find it.

That wasn't the case. She didn't find it either.

Then next day i went into school.

"I have changed my mind. Today we will be turning your books in."

Uh oh.

"I understand if you left them at home just get them to me tomorrow." She said.

We sighed in relief.

-next day-

"Okay when i call your name, please bring my your book here." She said.

"Abbie." She goes up and hands her book to the teacher.

"Bobby." Same with him.

-11 students later-

"Mac." I go up to the desk.

"Where is your book?" She questions.

"I-i--"

"Spit it out Mac."

"I um lost my book."

She looks ferrous. Oh no.

"Mac what do you mean you lost your book?" She tries to say calmly.

"I cant find it. My mum and i have looked and looked but we cant find it."

"Keep looking for it Mac!" She yelled.

*END OF 1ST GRADE FLASHBACK*

Everyday she would yell at me. Everyday. About 6 months later my mum found it rearranging my room. It was behind my fisher price desk.

Now because if them, i will never be the same. My childhood sucked and i dont like talking about it. I have major anxiety because of them. Which is why i panicked when Niall grabbed my arm and took me backstage. I thought he would be like my dad.

I didn't realize i was crying when Niall tried comfort me.

"Mac what is wrong?" He asked but i just cried harder.

"Please don't hurt me."

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A/N: The first part of Mac's abusive story is true. It isn't my story though. The second part of her story is also very true but that is my story. I felt that it had to be put in there. I want to say if you have ever been Bullied, Abused, or felt unloved, i want you to know that you can message me if you need anything. This was very hard for me to write. I hoped it made up for the days i didn't update. Much love, Mikayla