snippet from Her Scars 1
Her Scars 1
so she couldn't. I was forced to cook and clean for myself, my father, and Sky. I was basically a surrogate mother and wife at age nine.
My mom divorced dad when I was ten, and married a waiter named Samuel, who is another cause of my disbelief in love. No one can claim to love you and then treat you like a cockroach he can't get rid of. It's just not possible. Love is supposed to be unconditional. Samuel doesn't believe that. For a while after they were newly married, all I wanted to do was please him, so I did whatever he asked me to. Even menial tasks, like finding the remote for him. As I got older, I became more defiant, realizing that he didn't care about me; even if I did do everything for him. At age thirteen, I stopped all together, and that's when he took to verbal abuse.
My phone buzzes, bringing me out of my stupor. The screen says "Message from Harrison Davis". I click "Open" and read the text.

Oh! Okay. Sounds good. The earlier we start, the better, I guess. I hope working at my house is all right with you. 310 SW Second.

I write back, telling him I'll be there in five, and head out of the parking lot. Anywhere is better than home. Even the house of some boy I've never talked to before today.

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