I always thought I was going to die first. Either because of the abuse or because of suicide.

Ms Nancy told me that the doctors said my father was in a coma and the chances of him coming out of it was 30%.

And I was going to live with my brothers.

"No I'm an only child, what do you mean by I have brothers?"

"Your dad in the hospital actually is your stepdad and your real dad divorced your mom when you're born. You have some elder brohters."

I was in the verge of having a heart attack.

What if my so called brothers abused me? I was in so much panic and fear, my legs started twitching and I started crying.

Why hadn't my "brothers" tried to contact me when mom died? What happened to my real father?

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Anastasia Rosaline Parker Pov:

I was laying on the floor battered and bruised, bleeding profusely but it was not unusual for me. It was in fact quite the norm. This is my life.

I am Anastasia Rosaline Parker and this is my story.

Everything was perfect, until my mother died from cancer when I was 12. I had a perfect family and two loving parents. When my mom died. It was like I lost both my parents.

My father turned to drugs and alcohol to cope with his loss. We were very close when my mother was alive. When she died I saw a side of him that I wish I never saw.

At first he just neglected me. I was 12 and dealing with my mother's death, obviously I craved comfort from my dad.

After my mother's funeral, he was sitting on the sofa and drinking. I sat beside him, giving him a side hug.

He pushed me away and screamed at me saying it was all my fault.

I did not know what I did wrong but I cried myself to sleep, thinking about my mother and what my father had said to me.

Im sorry dad, I dont know how I caused mom's death but I'm sorry.

Things only took a turn for the worse after this. My life was forever changed and it was not for the better.

Its been 2 years since my mother died. Dad became an alcoholic abuser, he also abused me.

I became a maid for dad. Cleaning the house till it was spotless and cooking for him.

If the house or food wasn't up to his standards I would get a beating.

If he was bored and angry I was his punching bag.

In school I went from the popular girl to the bullied loner.

After my mother's death I had to go to work as my father was spending all his money on alcohol.

To survive I had to go and work at a diner as waitress.

My so called friends became angry that I was no longer spending time with them and started to bully me.

Eventually, the whole school started bullying me. I had no friends but it was kind of a good thing, I focused more on my studies and eventually I got a scholarship for school. One less burden, now I don't have to worry about my school fees.

The only time I'm peaceful is when I'm in my room, in the toilet cutting myself.

I know you people think I'm doing it for attention why would I even want more attention to myself, all the attention I get is negative.

If I wanted attention I would cut my wrists and not even bother to hide them but no, I like to cut at my thighs.

When I see the blood dripping from my cuts I feel relieved. Its like taking drugs to me, I feel pure ecstasy.

It is my way of coping from the abuse, bullying and loneliness I go through.

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Anastasia Rosaline Parker Pov:

Pain seared through my abdomen better than a branding iron, my mind conceding to the torment, unable to bring a thought to completion.

Without meaning to, my body curled into something fetal, something primeval and all the while the pain burns and radiates.

I gasp as I suddenly realised that I was going to be late for school. I slowly stood up and whimpered at the amount of pain I was feeling.

I limped out of the kitchen and took my cleaning supplies and cleaned up all my blood from the floor.

I was in excruciating pain but if the house was messy and if I skipped school, there will for sure be another punishment for me.

I saw the frying pan on the floor, I slowly limped to it and picked it up.

The frying pan had bits of burnt flesh under it. My flesh.

I could feel tears prickling at my eyes, looking at the pieces of my skin stuck at the bottom of the pan.

I threw the pan away.

After cleaning everything, I limped to the toilet and took a shower.

The cut from sir throwing the beer bottle and all the open wounds on my body stinged badly.

I used my towel to slowly dry myself.

I looked in the mirror and I gasped.

I can't even recognise the person in the mirror.

My body was littered in cuts and bruises.

My eye was swollen.

Everything hurt.

I looked at my stomach and was disgusting at the site. The skin was peeling and blisters were forming.I wanted to start crying. My skin was scarred for life. I looked horrendous. I put a bandage over it.

My ribs were aching.

I think they were broken. My head was throbbing painfully. I took two painkillers.

I put on make up to the best on my ability to cover up the bruises.

Not like anyone in school would care, but I dont want the teachers asking questions.

If sir found out that somebody discovered what he did to me, I cant even imagine what would happen to me. I shivered at that thought.

I quickly put on my leggings and my worn out hoodie when I realised that I was going to be late for school.

I took my bag pack carefully swinging it on my aching body and quickly wore my sneakers.

I limped down the stairs and started going to my personal inferno, filled with teenagers who pick and bully me "for fun".

Half-way walking to school I almost gave up and turn to go back home.

My head was in pain, my whole body hurt.

I was ready to turn back but the consequence of skipping school would be far worse than what Sir did to me just now.

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I was waiting for school to be over. My body was really in so much pain. Two teachers have asked me what's wrong.

I hesitantly told them that I fell down my stairs.

I wanted to tell them the truth and get help, but the fear that they would not believe me and send me back to my father is enough to keep me quiet.

I was doodling in my notebook in maths lesson, drowning out whatever my teacher was saying.

Suddenly, the principal came into the classroom and talked to the teacher. They both turned and looked at me with pity.

I wondered what was wrong. My hands were twitching in anxiety and fear.

The principal called me out and escorted me to his office. He then gave me news that changed my life forever.

My father had gotten into an accident and was in coma.

I didnt know if I was sad or happy.

I was a mixture of emotions.

After all that he had done to me, he is still my father.

A small part of me still loves him and always will, no matter what.

Finally I was free, but I was also trembling in fear.

What if I go to an orphanage and got adopted by someone worse than him.

I started hyperventilating at the thought. I couldn't go through this again. My body barely survived my father's abuse.

Since I had no other guardians or relatives, I was definitely going to an orphanage.

Anastasia Rosaline Parker's POV

The principal tried to calm me down.

He knew that I was in the verge of having a panic attack.

He asked me to follow his breathing, and we took deep breaths together.

After I calmed down, and was feeling better, he made me wait in his office for my social worker

After what felt like an eternity but was actually around 45 minutes, my social worker came.

She introduced herself as Ms Nancy.

Ms Nancy brought me to the hospital to see my father.

Never would I imagine the day seeing him in the hospital.

I always thought I was going to die first. Either because of the abuse or because of suicide.

Ms Nancy told me that the doctors said my father was in a coma and the chances of him coming out of it was 30%.

At this point, I knew for sure that I was going to an orphanage.

Ms Nancy drove me back to my house.

Firstly, she asked me how I was feeling and why I was limping.

I told her that I was ok and that I had fallen down the stairs.

She look at me with suspicion in her eyes but did not question me further.

She than told me she had shocking news for me.

"What could be more shocking than my father going to hospital?" I asked myself.

I knew that the shocking news was that I was going to an orphanage.

But what she told me was far from that and was actually shocking.

She told me that I was going to live with my brothers.

I was confused. "No I'm an only child, what do you mean by I have brothers?" I asked her.

She probably mixed me up with another child, I thought to myself.

Ms Nancy told me that my dad in the hospital, was actually my stepdad.

She said that my real dad divorced my mom when I was born and that I had older brothers.

I was in the verge of having a heart attack.

How was I going to live with my brothers I didnt know I had?

I had started to develop a fear of men, when my father wait, no my step father started abusing me.

What if my so called brothers abused me? I was in so much panic and fear, my legs started twitching and I started crying.

Why would my mom lie to me? Why hadn't my "brothers" tried to contact me when mom died. Why did my step father abuse me? What happened to my real father?