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Breaking The Cycle

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sex
family
drama
tragedy
sweet
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small town
abuse
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Blurb

After a rough childhood and the start to a rough adult life, Sarah is looking for a way out of the unending cycle of a***e she is stuck in. She wants out of her messed up life and to provide better for her 2 small children, but where is a person like her to go? No one will ever want her with all her baggage and starting her entire life over seems impossible.

Sarah fears starting over, but after running into an old friend who helps her get back on her feet and feel whole again, she begins to see a light at the end of this dark tunnel she has been wandering down.

Will she finally end the cycle of a***e in her life and her kids? Will she find the happiness she truly deserves? Or will she forever fall at the feet of her abusers and hide from the world?

Follow Sarah as she flashes back to her nightmare of a childhood and how it brought her to the monster she calls a husband and how he brings her to deaths door after things are finally going good for her.

She will battle for life, death, and happiness, but which will win out on this roller coaster she calls life?

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Chapter 1
Sarah's POV *Present Day*      “Mom, Cameron won’t stop taking my dolls!” Lizzi screams across the house to me as I hurry to finish the laundry. Not acknowledging my children fighting in their room, I continue to hang clothes in the closet of my bedroom. Soon enough, Cameron comes charging down the hall, dolls in hand, with a crying Lizzi trailing behind him. I reach out, snagging Cameron up as he tries to sprint past me, causing him to erupt in a fit of giggles.      "Mommy! Mommy! I taked Lizzi’s dolls and make them fly!” he laughs out as he wiggles in my arms. Knowing I need to diffuse the situation before it goes any further, I take the dolls from Cameron giving them back to Lizzi as I talk to Cameron about his actions.      “Cameron, honey, you can’t just take things that--” I start as my husband walks in interrupting me.      “Sarah, I’m sure whatever the issue is, it can wait. Where is my green dress shirt I told you needed to be ready for me by 2 today? I need it now, before I am late to my meeting!” yells Mark as he storms back out of the room to the kitchen. I can hear him slamming cabinet doors as he screams to our children to "shut the hell up before I shut you up for good!"     Knowing he would keep his word with them, I take a deep breath before doing as I'm told. Stepping to the other side of the closet door, I remove the green dress shirt that I hung there after ironing it for my husband. I slowly walk into the kitchen, tapping Mark on his shoulder softly before I begin pulling his shirt over his back. Mark stretches his arms back one at a time to slip them into the sleeves with my assistance, then stood waiting for me to come around him and button the shirt. I make my way from behind Mark, running my fingers gently over his back, then side, eventually stopping in front of him and buttoning his shirt. I know to do as I am commanded by him and to always give him all of my attention. Giving him a light peck on the lips, I wish him good luck at his meeting and turn to go check on the kids.     It is a Saturday afternoon and I know my husband does not have an actual meeting to attend. His Saturday meetings are usually late lunch dates with other women for an afternoon quickie to satisfy his dark desires. He has been doing this almost every Saturday for the last 6 years. I also know that if he comes home and the house is not cleaned to perfection with a hot meal waiting on the table for him, there will surely be a fight. No, not an argument like most couples, but an actual fight. When angry, Mark has always beat me, but I let him as long as he stays away from our children. He is smart with his actions though, only ever hitting me in the stomach or back to keep from leaving any bruises where others can see them and I am a professional at covering everything up.     After finishing all the laundry and laying Cameron and Lizzi down for their nap, I decide that I will take a few minutes to myself to just sit and rest. While laying back on the old lumpy couch in my hot living room, I think back to when I was a child. Is this really where I want to be? After everything I've been through in my life, did I not promise myself to do better? Did I not promise myself happiness? These questions and more spin in circles through my head as I lay staring up at the dusty white ceiling above me.

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