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*Warning* Suggestions of rape and violence, it would be indicated when it starts and ends.

Sloan's POV

My family sat opposite me staring, waiting for me to begin. After we had landed I took them to my house in Spain. Maria lived on the land but not in the house to we would meet them sometime tomorrow or later today, considering it was 4 in the morning.

Emmanuel went to his room to sleep so it's just me, my parents, my brothers and sister. Darrell and Clara left for France when I was comatose.

I lean forward in my chair grabbing the whiskey bottle from the coffee table, longing for anything to make this easier. As I bring it to my lips it's pulled from my hand.

"You can't drink alcohol when your on painkillers Sloan." Blaise says resting the bottle back on the table. I drop back into my chair sighing loudly before running my hands down my face.

"Ok where do I start?" I ask myself quietly.

"I don't remember much from my early childhood, it is all just a blur really. I can remember from the age of 5. I never remembered you all or the two first two years of living with him."

"When I lived with Isaiah I thought my childhood and lifestyle was normal. Never being able to leave the house, never being able to leave my room when his friends came. He was always angry one minute then he would just be laughing the next. His laughing was the one thing I remember clearly, it was always so psychotic he would laugh at me when I was in pain, begging him to stop and again I thought that was all normal."

"The first time he had hit me is etched into my memory, I never saw that coming. Yes he was wicked he starved me for days sometimes just because he could, would lock me in a small closet that had knives along the walls for, I had no other choice but to stand still there else I would get stabbed and he never tended to my wounds."

"But when he had hit me it was so much more painful, I mean I was only five the size of probably a three year old from all the lacking nutrition. He was always so tall to me at that age, he went in the gym every day for three hours."

"His hitting didn't stop there, everyday he would hit me scaling up from his hands to bats, knives, whips the works of it really. He would always say that he was my father and I deserved punishment for not looking like him. That didn't make any sense to my six year old mind because from the books that I had sneakily read it said the child would look like it's father. I never believed him any way."

"His punishments would always get worse and worse. My crying and begging always made him laugh, I thought that maybe something was wrong with me because I cried everytime, like why do I cry from the pain? Isn't this a normal thing? Aren't I normal?"

"He allowed me to be homeschooled because his child would never be ignorant, his words not mine. When Maria started coming she realized something was wrong but I was never accommodating to her so she proceeded to gain my trust. That was when he started saying those words, 'You can't trust anyone not even the clothes on your back, for it can't stop a flying bullet'. He knew I would break because I was lonely in that house, longing for some kind of companionship."

"The day he had catch me talking to Maria, which I wasn't allowed to do, I could only say yes or no, he was so angry. He told Maria to leave and I was thankful she didn't get the brunt of his punishment. That day I could never forget his punishment, the worse punishment you could ever give to a six year old." I stop furrowing my brows recalling the events of that day.

Flashback

"Didn't I tell you not to talk to the staff?" He screamed at me throwing my small body to the floor harshly. He shut the door loudly behind him before stalking over to me and grabbing me by the hair.

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