NOTHING
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Growing up in a home that always felt unstable. Her mother loving them, but love that wasn’t enough. The apartment often filled with drugs, parties, loud music, strangers, and cigarette smoke, a woman overwhelmed by too many problems and too little strength to manage them.
Learning early that adults were unpredictable and attention had to be earned. Spending evenings by the living room window, watching for her mother. Sometimes it took hours, but when she returned and promised tomorrow would be better, she believed her every time.
Being 6 years old, her mother met the man who would completely change their lives. Being everything her mother had never had before: wealthy, successful, charming, and confident. Bringing gifts when he visited — toys, dresses, candy — things her mother had never been able to afford. Calling her “princess”. For the first time in her life, feeling like things might finally become normal.
Eventually moving into his house, it felt like stepping into another world. There were rules. At first those rules felt like stability rather than control. But slowly, that changed. The man who had seemed so charming outside the home became strict and cold behind closed doors. Small mistakes became reasons for punishment. Forgetting to turn off a light, leaving something out of place, coming home with a small scratch from playing outside. None of it was acceptable.
Most of his anger falling on her brother, escalating from harsh discipline to physical punishment. Hearing the yelling, doors slamming, struggles through the walls. Terrified but untouched, learning that perfection kept her safe.
When turning 11, having watched a scary movie and couldn’t fall asleep afterward. Like many children, she just wanted the comfort of sleeping next to her mother for the night. Slipping quietly into their bedroom, expecting warmth and safety. Instead, something happened that she had no words for at the time. His hands where they should never have been, touching parts of her body she barely had touched herself. Becoming a routine. At least twice a week, sometimes more, he would come into her room when the house was quiet and dark. Continuing for years. Never telling anyone. The shame settled inside her quickly, heavy and suffocating. Feeling dirty, broken, and responsible in ways she couldn’t explain. During the day she pretended nothing was wrong. She learned to separate her life into two completely different worlds.
Starting high school at 14 being everything people admired. She was beautiful, confident, charming, and incredibly popular. Always looking perfect, always smiling, always having people around her. Having countless friends and even more male attention.
Then she met him and for the first time in years, feeling something like happiness. Young and in love, she ignored warning signs: his jealousy, possessiveness, and control disguised as care. Slowly, the relationship became another prison, adding manipulation to the abuse she already endured at home, until every moment revolved around him. Becoming pregnant at 16. Instead of support, she was met with accusations. He blamed her for cheating, convinced that the baby couldn’t be his, and accused her of getting pregnant intentionally to trap him. Forcing her to get an abortion, cutting her off afterward and leaving her to deal with the aftermath by herself.
After leaving home, she hardened. Throwing herself into the city — parties, alcohol, crowded rooms — drinking to forget. Nights blurred in music and dim lights. Letting men touch her easily, avoiding the control of her past, and rarely sleeping alone, afraid of the quiet that came with empty rooms. Every meaningless interaction feeling like a small step further away from the people who had once controlled her body and her life.
To the world, being is charismatic, fearless, and untouchable — laughing, drinking, flirting. But beneath the surface, confiding in no one. Her past is buried beneath noise, alcohol, and fleeting affection. Love, having destroyed her twice, is nothing more than a lie.
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