Hi lovely Peoplee. I wanted to update yesterday, but I caught a cold and it's been the worst thing everr. *blows nose*

Hopefully it goes away soon so I won't have to enter 2018 with it lol.

(Play Music Above While Reading, pretty please?❤ with icing on top. It's one of my favourite songs by the way)

~Let's raise children who won't have to recover from their childhoods.~

-Pam Leo

Everyone has a story about their childhood. Most I've heard are filled with rosies and rainbows. Happiness. Sunshine. Sleepovers. Ice cream. Joy. Laughter.

But it wasn't that way for me when I turned 7.

I was abused. Tortured. Molested.

I was a child, and I grew up in the hands of Florence.

I grew up learning something. Something very wrong. It was the only thing Florence would teach me. It wasn't normal. But what could I have done?

Tell my parents? I tried so hard, they just never were around.

I would hide in a box in the basement, crying my lungs out after being abused and molested.

Then when I heard the sound of my mother's car horn, I would run out. Aunt Florence would see me, but I wouldn't care. I had to run for my life.

She chased me, but I ran faster. She warned me that if I said anything to my mother, she would punish me. But the damage was enough.

I couldn't take it anymore. I just couldn't.

I needed to survive.

I rushed to my mother and hugged her.

I remember saying, "Aunt Florence is bad! She's bad! She hurt me! Mom don't leave me with Aunt Florence! Please mom!" I cried uncontrollably and mom was alarmed. I cried my eyes out in my mother's velvet dress. I remember perfectly.

Aunt Florence had rushed out and told my mother a story. A complete, believable lie.

"Mom she's lying! She's lying! It's not true!" I remember crying out, but Aunt Florence also began to cry as well.

And my mother believed her.

She believed Aunt Florence, not me. She believed the maid's tears over her son's.

Mom didn't know. If only she did, some of my childhood could have been saved.

Some of my innocence would have been spared...

And as if I had more room for pain, mom had to rush out, she didn't say where. I remember holding onto the car door for her not to leave, begging her, "MOM PLEASE TAKE ME WITH YOU PLEASE!" crying, but she drove away.

I started to run away from the house but Aunt Florence threw a stone and it hit me perfectly on my back.

Why would she do that to a child?

Before my little bruised self could pick myself up from the ground, she did. And carried me inside.

"I told you NOT to say a word." She sounded like the devil, "I will punish you."

"Please!" I cried as she dropped me to the floor and I tried to scramble away from her but I just wasn't fast enough. I was a weakling. "Aunt Florence what did I do!" My sobs drained the little strength my little body had to try to fight back and save the ounce of dignity I felt I still had.

"You were born!" She pulled my trousers off.

I cried and wondered when my savior would come knocking on the door, to show me that there was still hope for me, till I couldn't endure the pain any longer and passed out.

This is why my mother would do anything now to put a smile on my face.

She did everything she could to bring me back to normal. She cried countless days, months, years, when my first four therapists said they tried hard but it didn't look like I could be myself again. She sent me to different countries to meet with specific therapists dad had communicated with.

Dad. He hated mom for neglecting me when he was away. Mom hated him for being away. They started arguing a lot, but they were there for me, and never left my side since the night the police sent Aunt Florence away.

Kira was there for me too. She saved me from permanent damage. The most caring girl I ever knew.

I recovered fully, and I had never seen my parents so joyous and happy. It was the first time my dad cried in front of me.

They took care of me so well. I picked up in my studies. I even got a scholarship and went straight to uni. It almost seemed as though they were rushing me to more success and happiness. I was so happy. So happy I was normal, and people treated me normally. The memory was practically non-existent.

But yesterday, last night, it came back, with a force I had never witnessed before.

Lara.

I was going to tell her everything about me. I was going to begin talking, and let it flow. It would come out gently. Because I had come to accept my past. At least, that's what I thought.

I was willing to share my secrets with her. I don't know why, but I wanted her to know me. I knew she would be able to handle it, because she had handled my advances. I didn't know she detested what I was doing because she always gave in. I thought she wanted it too. When I kissed her, she responded wholeheartedly. I never had to force her.

But yesterday, I felt like the biggest fool.

Lara came at me with so many accusations and allegations. I tried to explain, but she wouldn't listen to me.

They had already filled her head with all those lies about me. And she effortlessly believed them. She believed them over me.

It happened a lot. I was always taken for granted.

And she just had to mention their version of the Aunt Florence story. How I raped her and ruined her life because I was bad. How she thought I was abnormal.

I couldn't take it. Especially from Lara. My heart couldn't take it. It shattered into a million pieces. Her words pierced me so hard and her eyes were so cold, I couldn't recognize her.

The memories just rushed back, and it was driving me crazy. I wanted to tell her it wasn't true, but I couldn't. She would have called my delicate story a lie, just like she did the others. She would have made a mockery out of it, and I would have been crushed more.

I can't get the images out of my head.

My night was restless. I barely slept. I turned and twisted and shut my eyes but all I could see was Aunt Florence molesting my young self, and I could feel the pain I felt then.

I lost something I would never get back. My childhood.

The knock on the door harshly brought Jayden out from his thoughts and he hastily wiped away the stupid tear from his face. No one could see him like that.

In fact, he didn't want to see anyone.

He was lying on his tummy with his arms crossed on his pillow beneath his head, facing the curtains covering the glass doors towards the balcony.

He ignored the knocks. The person would just go the fuck away when they were tired. Of course it was Lara.

Probably coming to clean or give him his breakfast since he hadn't said a word about it, and it was past 11 am.

But the person didn't go. She opened the door slowly, entered and closed the door behind her.

There was silence. Jayden knew it was her.

(Are you sure you are?)

:)