Broken road.

Formalities.

The start of it all usually happens at the beginning of a book, so here's mine.
I didn't grow up surrounded by people, in fact I didn't really have any people around me at all.
I lived with my mam and dad before things all turned pear shaped and I ended up switching between houses for the first year after their divorce. It was back and fourth constantly, but I lived with my dad right at the end. Then, at fifteen years old, I decided to search for a house of my own. I was in college at this point, or just starting... That's one massive broken road to go down as well, but I'll get to that.
I wish things had turned out so differently, but unfortunately people don't have that luxury.
Anyways, at the age of sixteen, whilst being on holiday in Scarborough with my dad, brother and sister, I received a phone call.. and I was accepted for a house viewing and was able to move in as soon as I had come off my holiday..
but it wasn't a normal house, it was a shared accommodation. Regardless of that, I decided to take the offer, and I moved in. Along the way I met those that were also living in the same house, it was a rough place, there was a lot of damaged property, there was always drug use and you couldn't ever have a full conversation with most of them. Some of them are in prison or in serious drug trouble now, but not all of them. I'm still in contact with one girl from that tragic house. I think we were the only 'sane' people there. But that's okay, because we kept each other going.
That house basically persisted of people doing drugs and playing music until daft AM. Not my cup of tea or coffee at all, and nobody would be catching me doing that ever. However, it was the normal for some.
'That girl' I mentioned before, she's one that's helped me stick through life when times got tough, she's been my number one since day one, I can count on her for anything (other than being late for going out to different places.) but that's just Megan... and also my best friend.
During the time of living in the shared accommodation, I met a guy; I intended to take things so slow, it was my first real relationship; or at least, that's what I thought.. before things turned horrific. The images that have scarred me for a lifetime will never be able to escape me, and they will always leave me curious.. will this happen again?
I won't go into detail on it as it was the worst time I felt I had experienced in my life.. that was until the next guy... two years later.
I never realized that people show their dear love by hurting them constantly, both physically and mentally. It just never seemed right in my mind. & to be told it wasn't, just summed everything up really.
It took me time to get out of that situation, but I knew I needed to. I figured I just kept going for the bad ones.
Where are all the good guys?
Another year later, my third relationship.. it was all running smoothly, until the dark side swept in and knocked me off my feet and down a ton of stairs (literally).