Chapter 1: Pain

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The picture above is Adrian, who is 'played' by Frank Rossi. I think he is such a cutie and I love how he has more of a normal face and not really that much of a model looking type.

(TRIGGER WARNING: There are mentions of and depictions of abuse and other similar themes.)

~HarleyVB

Adrian's POV

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Adrian's POV

My leg throbbed as I limped up the steps and through the front door, the descending sun casted an orange shadow across my battered face. It was starting to get dark and I noticed the lights were still off from when I left that morning.

I looked up at my home. The narrow building looked innocent enough, but I knew the true horror that lurked behind the chipped door. Even the soft blue walls and neat yard couldn't hide the truth behind what happened on the inside.

I stood still for a minute and let my trembling hands open before watching the light disappear from the sky and slip beneath the horizon.

My breath wavered.

There wasn't anything for me in that house. Only hate and abuse resided beneath the walls, but I didn't have anywhere else to go.

The town I lived in was small. Everyone knew each other. Though I knew if I asked, none of them would let me stay with them. We were the family that others turn their heads away from.

My life had been a stigma since my mother died.

It was as if I wore a big flashing sign that told everyone to walk in the other direction. Believe me when I say that they all did.

I didn't blame them though. I was the odd kid with scars on my arms and face. It was something that drew people away from me. I'd spent a large portion of my life trapped in a house full of nothing but hatred towards me, so I didn't expect anyone else to treat me differently.

The kids at my school hadn't bothered me. I had graduated a few years ago, but I still remembered the way I was treated. They all sneered when I walked past them, but they never laid a hand on me. I was always alone.

While other people joked with each other in the hallways, I hid myself away in order to stay invisible.

My safe haven was always the local library. I would take up one of the chairs in the back and sit until one of the workers informed me that they were closing. Books were my anchor; they kept me from sinking in on myself and giving up.

I had friends up to the eighth grade. They all gave their condolences and then turned around when I really needed them the most.

I was abandoned. I was alone.

First my mother, then my companions and last my father. They were all gone.

All I really wanted was a family that actually loved me, but I had my chance at one and it was gone.

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