Trouble With Her [On Hold]

Prologue

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]

Hello. Yes. Hello. Yay! Okay, this is a prologue. This is my second attempt at a story so hmm as usual, any comments on this prologue will be appreciated. Anyway, back to the point. I hope you enjoy this thing. Wheeee. I'm excited people. Please note that this prologue is actually gonna be the day she ran away. So yeah, if you know what I mean. Oh warning. This story is very vulgar (throughtout the whole story), extrememly chunky (for its paragaphs but I'm trying my best to improve), emotional, and a slight bit of delusional for the start, so for those young-ass kids who are on wattpad and you happen to come across this, don't carry on reading. Okay you'll probably stay, so don't say I didn't warn you. Back to the story. This story starts off when she was still thirteen so remember, only for this chapter will the story be super emotional and deep. Hope you enjoy it!

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Prologue

Cut. The blood dripped down my wrist as I gritted my teeth. Immense pleasure shot through me as I watched the cut form on my wrist. Blood dripped onto the bathroom floor from my wrists, making me groan.

Great. I'll have to clean this shit up. All by myself.

My frown deepened as I thought about letting go of the blade. Damn, I guess I have to go help my parents set up dinner.

I glanced at my wrists and a wry smile stretched across my lips. Deep, bloody, scars were carved onto my wrists. I clenched the handy blade I found under my sink two years ago tightly and silently thanked it for going through the pain with me during all the bullying and abuse I had gone through. Tears of pain I cried earlier during my self-harming session laid dry on my cheeks, causing my cheeks to feel sore as hell.

"Desslyn! Help me with dinner!" a voice called from downstairs and I clenched my jaw in anger.

Bitch, I ain't going down. I thought sourly, casting my blade on the floor with a loud thud and looked at myself into the broken remains of what was left of my mirror.

What I saw? A girl with dull brown hair and pale skin with scars all embedded on her wrists and body, all covered up by long-sleeved clothing. I coughed weakly and picked up the blade, sliding it into the back pocket of my jeans. I simply tied my hair into a ponytail and waited for it to happen.

Three.

Two.

One.

A loud crash at my bedroom door sounded as I took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom, my eyes not able to meet the evil ones of my own mother. I looked upwards and flinched at the hinges of my bedroom door hanging on the door frame's edges, while my own bedroom door lay fallen apart on the floor.

"You filthy piece of shit, did I not tell you to come down and help me with dinner? Don't expect me to wait for you, I have no time to drag myself all the way up here for you." she raged, her fingernails digging into her palms. She took a step closer towards me, her breath reeking of alcohol. As usual, I did what my instincts told me to do. I took a step back.

Wrong move.

She slapped me, her sharp fingernails clawing into my cheeks as the slap stinged like hell. "You listen Desslyn, you better make yourself useful for your father and I, or one day you'll be out of this house forever." she spat, her tone filling with hatred. You have no fucking idea how much I wish to. my fists clenched, I ignored the woman who I was supposed to regard as my mother. She gestured for me to get my ass down to set up dinner, and I did what I was told.