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Okay, so the next few chapters are going to be strictly in Jayden's POV, and in the form of a letter to Olivia and Elliot. Enjoy! :D

Also, this might have some hard topics for some. Please read at your own discretion.

He was a bad man. He hurt me, and he hurt my mother. He hurt us all. But before all of that, before I go into detail about a dead man who fathered me, and lets go back a bit. 

So Mom and Dad, I was born on a Monday. Mondays are known to be one of the worst days of the week because it's just crappy. From having your weekend ended early, and having to go back to work and school. But this Monday was horrible for my parents. I was born. They hated me because I was one of the kids they found out about too late to abort. And I know what you're thinking, how do you know... Well, I know because they hated me and told me daily.

Once again, before I get farther in, I want to tell you both how much I love you, and thank god for you both. Having a real family is amazing. Having siblings who actually love me, and don't hate me because I pushed our parents closer to the edge is awesome. But my life has been far from awesome before I became a Stabler...

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The first memory I have was when I was three. I was sitting on the deck of our small house, that was beyond capacity. My hands were cut up, and my knees were bruised. Inside the house I heard my older sister crying out from pain, as my father raped her. My mother was pregnant at the time, so he was taking it easier on her. But why you ask...

Because my mother's boyfriend threatened to kill him, if that baby was lost. It wasn't my father's.

I heard the door open behind me, and my siblings decided that they heard enough, and spilled out and into the back yard. In the process, my oldest brother who was only about 14 at the time, kicked me hard in the back, and I tumbled down the stairs, and landed on a broken beer bottle, that my father had thrown down here at some point. 

This caused my first trip to the ER that I could remember. And it was also the first time I was taken from my parents, and shipped to a foster home. But the safety of that home only last three days, before I was shipped back to my parents who pretended to love me, so my case worker would let them have me back. But once that door shut, and the sound of her car engine died away, I was hit upside the head with a pair of soccer cleats. I had cuts up and down my face, and my older sister, the one who my father raped, had to pull the little pieces of sharp material from my face.

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But guys, this wasn't the only memory I have. More and more come to me everyday, but everything before the first one won't come to me. I was scarred, and I guess that was why I remember it so vividly.

By the time I was ten, I was so done with life and all the shit I've been through, that I didn't want to love you guys. I didn't want to feel like you were my parents, and that you would protect me, because it had been pounded into my head, that I wasn't worth it. I was a horrible daughter too, and I didn't want to screw you all up.

But once you came to the school after I got in trouble, and started to fight for me. How you kinda became my own personal police officers, I was okay. I was okay with loving you all. For wanting to be a daughter to you, one that you would be proud of. Yet, I've been a brat lately. I've been a complete bitch if we are being honest.

But when I started this letter, I said that my father did some bad stuff to us. And now, I'll divide this letter and give you a true idea.

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I was about 8 when stuff started to happen. My father would sneak into my room and lay in bed with me. He would call me his favorite, and when I went to tell my mother, she said it was something that I deserved, and that Dads did stuff like that to their daughters. 

Later I found out that my mother's father was sexually abusive, just like my father's father was too. It was one giant mix of horribleness. 

I wish that when I was younger, that I had actually talked to my mother. That I had told her that being raped and sexually assaulted as a child by a parent, isn't normal. And I'm thankful that you both helped me realize that.

But I don't really want to bring up word for word what my father did to me. I don't want to put those horrible images in your head. But I do what to describe some other things that have happened to me. Or my family.

So, I have an older sister named Luca. She's the one that helped me after I was hit in the head, and was the one sister, no matter how scarred she was, would help take care of the younger siblings and love us. Luca was the one who was raped when my older brother kicked me down the stairs.

She was 14 two years later, and ended up getting pregnant. My father was also that baby's father. It was disgusting to think that he was so desperate, that he would do that to his own kid. But when I said have up above, I should've said had. Because she died when she was having the baby. I was five at the time, and it was heart breaking.

I would cry for her, but that got me beat. It lead me to the point where I almost died...

Hey guys! Thanks for reading! Please vote and comment all of your feedback below! :D

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