His Personal Maid ✔

Chapter 15- MY STORY

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.