But you still love me anyway...


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1. Scars.

As i pulled the sharp cold blade across my wrist i gasped, it had been too long. Silent tears fell down my face, not for pain but relief. Things were okay at home sometimes... but they only got better to get worse. On my first birthday we moved from Carrickfurgus in Ireland to Wokingham in England, of course i couldn't miss much, i was only one. No biggy, we moved because my father had gotten a job there.. My dad was English anyway. He used to beat my mum, i don't remember much.. he left when i was 5 but i can remember holding the ears of my little brother and turning the tv up as he screamed. it was around then i vowed id never make the same mistakes, i didn't get it really.. but i knew he was hurting her. Her screamed echoed around our rather large house, my dad was a stockbroker.. Perfect family, thats what everyone thought. No one ever helped? But you can only guess what goes on between two people behind closed doors right? When i was 6, Dad left. Screaming and shouting the only way. My little brother then 3 was not affected but for me, i was already a lost cause... when most girls my age were ripping things up, getting dirty and screaming, i was looking after things always clean and quite. A few months after my dad left my mum found out she was pregnant, never told dad of course. But he didn't really wanna see us anymore anyway? He'd tried taking me.. but i wasn't leaving jack and connor.. no way in hell.

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