Behind The Scenes

day 1, memory

a/n: warning, this story contains forced sexual acts, sex, and violence which may be triggering to some people.

And here i am again. I wonder what my mother has planned this time around. A shudder runs up my spine as i think of the girly things she always wants me to wear. It's the same every day, i return home to this hellish place. She tries to force me into something. I refuse and we start an argument, and then she gets violent. Some days are fine, the days where i go along with what she wants.

Sometimes i wonder if i should run away somewhere. Somewhere far away and safe from my mom, but don't get me wrong, i love my mother, she's just a bit "sick." to put it nicely.

I start down the road, thinking about just walking off and finding somewhere else to stay, but ill always have to return at some point, and then she will be even more violent than normal. It's better just to go in. taking in a sharp breath and with shaky hands i open the door to my home.

"Hey mom, i'm home!" i desperately hoped she would be working late again. I look around waiting for a response. Good she's not here. I sigh a breath of relief and walk up to my room. Once there i grab some black skinny jeans and a black hoodie, some of the only things my mom will let me have around that were even a little remotely something a guy could wear. She won't even let me have sweat pants around since there "un proper for a lady to wear."

I bring the clothes over to my bed and set them down. I start to get changed, pulling my shirt off and picking up the hoodie, slipping it over my head. I look into the mirror, seeing all the bruises from my mother's past anger fits. A few cuts from yesterday still bright and red. The images of yesterday played in my head.

We were sitting at the dining table as she asked me to put on a dress for her. To make her day a little better, it was something we could do together. When i refused she didn't take it well at all.

(3rd person point of view.)

She slammed her fists against the table, screaming words out at her son.

"Horrible child! I just want you to be pretty and have all the things i couldn't have! Your my daughter, your supposed to do as your mother says!"

"But mom! I'm not a gir."

"You shut your trap! You are, you are a girl and dont you say otherwise. You listen to me."

"But mom!"

"Don't but mom me. Why wont you just wear the dress!" she kept shrieking at the boy. She now stood at the table and hovering over him.

"Because im not!"

"what ! because your not a girl. Do you not love me! Your supposed to love your mother!" she grabbed fist fulls of the blue hair and kept screaming at him. The words now fading into nothingness for the boy. She started pulling at his hair and threw him to the ground. She started kicking and punching at him, leaving many bruises over his pale body.

"Horrible child! You don't even love your own mother!"

This went on for a while, the boy curled up in the fetal position. Eventually she grabbed a nearby vase and smashed it on him. The vase being weaker than expected broke, shattering into millions of pieces. The shards stuck into him, many giving him large gashes.

"Look what you made your mother do! This is your fault!" and finally she walked away.

(end of flashback. Nagisa's pov.)

I pull the hoodie the rest of the way over myself, covering the many scars and bruises i had. I'm lucky she never hits anywhere that can be seen. She wants to make sure that i still look pretty, so she never will. At least it's easier to hide them all this way.

a/n: hello lovely readers, so i want to explain that this is version one of this story (the first draft) ill be creating a second version of the story once the first version is fully complete, so there are many inconsistencies. the first draft will be over dramatic so that i can pic and choose what craziness i want to leave in when i go to do the second version.

i originally started this story on a different sight, but decided due to the content of the story i will be uploading the story here. for now ill just upload once a week until the story is caught up to where i am currently at in the writing. right now i'm only really working on the story once every two months, so i'm giving myself time to get into better habits with this upload schedule. 

remember, roses are beautiful, but every rose has its thorns.

till then my precious roses.