Prologue/ Warning The title is actually a huge opposite of what this story is about. Bullying. Self harm. Life. Yes, you have read correct this is a story of a struggle. Not just any struggle though, it's mine and if you were looking for a sappy delightful romance story with a happy ending you will not find it here. This is a story under my alias name Manon Kingsley Montgomery. This story is all true and If you can't handle constant wrong turns in a story, I suggest you don't continue reading any further. For those who cared to read on, I'm changing the names of others as well so I'm hopefully not recognized. Chapter 1: Everything Goes Where do I begin, oh yes how about my earliest memories shall we? Let's take a look into my 'daycare' years, when my parents worked non-stop. I sometimes blame my parents for my social awkwardness because I never went to preschool or even a daycare. I spent most of my days with Ms. Shannon and her daughter Katy. Now Katy was a very spoiled child since her father left them and she was a single child. At the time, I was not a spoiled little princess like all the other children. Sorry may I take a second to regain myself, I haven't thought of my childhood well...since the therapist. On with the story, I never actually played with Katy often either. To reveal something I'm a schizophrenic, everyone knew there was something "off" about me apparently. Ms. Shannon would usually allow me to sit in the dark guest room where she kept her dolls and books. The voices absolutely terrified me at times so I would pair them to the dolls and the hallucinations never bothered me in my earlier years. One time I bit Katy because she was pestering me and calling me crazy. When I was a child I never thought much of my voices, for the longest time I thought that they were imaginary friends. Now I think of them as the monsters that won't shut their mouths. She cried to her mother, complaining that I was a brat but all Ms. Shannon did was give me a juice box. Soon after that I remember that a job opened up at my mothers office and Ms. Shannon quickly took the job. Leaving Katy in daycare and me with a rude woman name Abby. Never once did she show me kindness and was also disrespectful to my mother. All for now I need to rest my head and settle the memories. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I'm sorry but this is all a very true story and I feel like this happens to so many people. I want to tell my story and how I survive. If you are feeling depressed please come speak with me, I'll be more than happy to talk to you.
I'm not ashamed of what I've been through but the memories are hard to retrieve, I really haven't thought back to my childhood in a really long time. I will give another update today after school. Until then dearies <3
Well picking up where left of at Abby and I'll tell you more about her. She had beady little brown eyes and long black hair that was looked like she never washed it. Such an ugly soul not because she looked bad in appearance because Abby had a horrible attitude and personality. It was very odd though on days I'd have to go to her house, she had a crib and awkward statues. Always forcing me to wear little dresses before I took a nap. I think I still suck my thumb in my sleep is because she would put binkies in my mouth. You may call them something different but I call them binkies. The small device used to calm babies, that's what I'm talking about. I'm lead to believe Abby had a miscarriage or that she was married with a child but then divorced and the child was taken away from her. When my mother would come to pick me up, she wouldn't even speak to Abby knowing she would just say bad things. Sometimes she would literally walk into the house and just pick me up, leaving without warning. After a few months my mom decided to quit her job because she wanted more time with us. My dad was doing pretty well at his job so he alone could support us. I wish I could say it had gotten better from there but I would be lying. She started foster care and became extremely frustrated almost all the time, never cared to try and hide it. Even to this day I don't have a good relationship with my mother, she says she tries but that excuse gets old. In my life time I have had one biological sister, one adopted sister, and fifty-nine foster brothers and sisters. Most of them all bullied me because I was smaller. I felt so unloved except when my daddy would come home from a long deployment and bring candy for his real children, which we would hide. My dad liked the foster children but never loved, and only certain ones he liked. All for now dearies...