Prologue

*This story is based on true events*

"The heck!! Can't you do anything right for a change!"  There my father pinned my mother against the kitchen wall, tightly holding onto her neck with his large, muscular right hand. "You useless piece of crap!!!"

He then held up his left hand and slapped her in the face three consecutive times. The hits were so hard it made my mother's face bright red.

I was sat on the floor of the living room, hiding behind the couch, watching the entire scene. I was wrapped under a thin wool blanket, as if it would protect me for when my father would eventually come and beat me up too. 

I remember at that time, being an eight-year old little girl, all I wanted was for the violence to stop. The screaming was never unusual in the house, and neither was the violence... the violence was just less usual. Nevertheless, every time my father would abuse my mother, all I could do was cry and watch from under the wool blanket, shaking in utter fear. 

Eventually when I was around 9 years old, the police had finally discovered what had been going on in our household. When confirmed, my father was immediately arrested and sent to prison. From then on, my mother went to therapy sessions and continued to raise me as a single mom. And without a doubt, when my father was out of the picture, life got a lot better for my mother and I. 

But the wounds of the past would never heal. 

The affliction of the past would never leave.

The chains of the past would never let go. 

Even for another 9 years, I continuously lived in constant fear... 

Until I met a certain guy...