The Hurting

Chapter 1

I always wanted to be normal. I wanted to have friends like everyone else and I wanted to come home to a welcoming and warm family after school. I wanted home-cooked lunchboxes from my mum and a dad who helps me with my homework.

At a certain point this wish grew so strong I would have done everything just to experience it for one day. But instead of becoming reality, I had to say goodbye and forget this stupid wish once I realized how unlikely it was for it to come true.

While I saw my classmates arrive at school with full lunchboxes and watched them showing off their Christmas presents, I knew I was lucky if my drunk of a father didn't have a bad day and wants to play "Who hits Olivia's head with a beer bottle first" with his friends.

Involuntary and also partly I first started to despise my classmates, then everyone around me.I found it ridiculous how Amber got upset with her parents because they didn't buy her the latest Michael Kors handbag for her sixteenth birthday, but "only" her brother's old car, which he had gotten two years ago and is therefore old.

Loneliness became my constant companion, especially because I gradually pushed everyone around me away. In the beginning, I just distanced myself, because they asked too many questions that I either could not answer or did not want to answer, but gradually it became a habit and I did not let anyone get at me.

For my classmates, I was known as "the freak," because who the f**k has no friends and only wears black, long-sleeved things?It infuriated me that these privileged, cocky snotty brats seriously thought they were so much better than me and it made me even angrier because I had to ask myself every day what I did wrong to be born into such a dreadful family.Though, what I did find quite funny after 8th grade, is that these snot-noses were intimidated by me.It was only later that I learned that it was due to the rumor that I was a Satan's Mantis and was cursing all those who came near me. At that time, I didn't care much about what the others thought of me, and the fact that they seriously believed that I was a witch or anything in that direction was amusing.

By the time I turned 16, my anger was already accumulated that much that I was thinking to deal with it the same way as my sperm donor: drink and smash things.

The thought terrified me so much that I tried everything possible just to avoid ending up like my part-time father. Kickboxing, karate; Martial arts in general has helped me a lot.

That was before I found another way to let everything out: s*x. I'm damn sure that I sound like a w***e, but s*x helped me to reduce my frustration and my anger. The feeling during the f*****g and then the feeling of simply forwarding the guy made me happy because it made me feel that I'm not the only one who's just being used and thrown away like a damn.

Most of the time the guys didn't mind, even if I always fancy, they would mourn the loss and want me back in bed. Sad, I know. But that's how I changed from a "freak" to a "school mattress", even though I rather prefer "Playgirl".

To be honest: if a guy is called "Playboy" because he has a different girl every night, then I want to be called "Playgirl". Just saying, I'm not going to a guy and tell him he's a male w***e because he's f****d half of the girls population on the school campus.

So, if I was not out with a guy in the evenings, then I participated in some, often illegal, underground fights to help finance my college because I definitely would not get any money to study from my begetter and my mom left when I was 7 and left me with the drunkard, who scolds himself my father.

To the astonishment of almost everyone, which quickly turned into envy for many, I got perfect grades so that I got a full scholarship from the University of Toronto in the end and thus finally a way out of hell.