Bane of My Existence – New Post out Now!

Hey everyone,

Got my new legacy started today and would really appreciate it if you could go check it out. I really need some feedback, so please help me out!

Thanks very much, I’ll link you below, but not before giving you a hint as to what the story involves:

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“The Bane family, forever ridiculed, forever hated and forever feared. Most would ignore this dysfunctional household, most would high tail it from their home if they were given the chance, most would shun them, most wouldn’t even dare to look at them, but we aren’t most. This is where our story begins, in a little house, in a big city, with a huge mess.

Meet Rose Bane, and her family and follow them on an adventure of a lifetime.

Murder, betrayal, love and twisted affairs.

Watch with us, in amusement, as we spin their doomed tale.

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Some questions are Better Left Unanswered..”

Click here for the Homepage

Click here for the About Page

Click Here for the Table of Contents

And click the picture below for the Prologue

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It’s Over

Hey Everyone, 

I’m sorry to say this but this legacy has sadly come to a close, much earlier than I would have hoped. I don’t have much choice but to do this, I would much rather keep it open and pumping out chapters. Turns out, I have bad luck and I can longer continue. 

I was getting photos for the third chapter and my friend (who also writes with me), sent me a sim that was going to be a major part in the story. Turns out, they had downloaded bad CC from the exchange (and I don’t usually download stuff from there, so I never even knew), and it transferred over to my game. 

I didn’t realise for a while, until my game started freezing up and crashing suddenly. It takes around an hour to load (stuffed with CC, mods and the likes), and then when I finally got on, I managed to take two pictures and then it crashed. It started doing that over and over again, so I decided that it wasn’t worth the bother and tried to fix it. My laptop was getting old, constantly overheating and was full of rubbish, and I had lots of money left over from birthdays, Christmas’s, and stuff. 

I decided to get a new laptop, not just because of the sims thing, and was considering transferring all my files and CC, mods, Sims, lots, etc. but my Dad had other ideas (he’s good with computers and tried to help when I was out). He deleted all of my files, so I was forced to stop doing that legacy. 

But I love writing, and I love Sims, so I am starting another legacy. I have written out the first chapter, made Sims, and am onto the second chapter. I’m going to wait until I have a few chapters ready before I begin posting so it doesn’t get overwhelming and I can keep up with a schedule. I’ll be posting in Summer probably, and from then on. 
The new legacy is completely different from all my usual stuff, so I’m not sure how it’s going to go. It will be extremely difficult to get pictures for it this time around. The first generation’s going to involve guns, murder, tears, fire and money! The family name will be Bane, and it will not be a regular legacy to start off with (living in a rubbish house, leaving family behind, etc.) but that stuff might come later on. 

Stay tuned, and I’ll be posting more information on it, and a link to the new blog! 

Update

I know this isn’t a new chapter, and I’m sorry for that, but it’s on the way. I have written out the chapter, been planning out a lot of story lines and have made a rough draft of the generation. I am working on pictures right now, but the chapter won’t be out till the end of this week. In the meantime, here’s some pictures of our newest characters (you’ll be introduced to them in this chapter)..

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Mya will make a big appearance..Image

Brandon will be a big part of this chapter..Image

 

 

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And also Logan, who is Mya’s nephew.

Enjoy! What does everyone think of them?

Craig

 

Happy Easter!

Hey everyone,

Happy Easter! I hope you all had a good one, and stuffed your faces with lots and lots of chocolate. I know I did! I’m sad that I haven’t gotten a chapter out in the past week, but I’ve been so busy, it’s unreal.

I’ve been in a caravan for a few days, and when I got back I had a problem with my braces (they hate me so much) and then it was Easter. I had a huge party to organize and help with, which made for even less time writing and taking pictures for the next Kings chapter. I had fun though, which I guess it the main thing but I’m really annoyed that I didn’t have much simming time.

I just want to let you know I’ll be trying my hardest to get Chapter 2 out quickly but there are no promises. It will hopefully be out by the end of this week..

I’ve got over half of it written and some pictures marked out, but still need to go in game and get pictures.

How was everyone’s Easter then!? Did you guys do anything?

Craig 🙂

 

1.1 – All I Need Is Love..

Warning:  May contain ensitive subjects, language, scenes that could offend, violence and mature content 

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“Here it is!” The real estate agent announced, spinning round to gauge my reaction. I’m sure my face dropped instantly, twisting into a look of horror, my nose wrinkling in disgust.

“Eh..” I paused, trying to think about how to break it to her lightly, that there was no way I’m buying a hell hole like this! The place had clearly been abandoned for countless years, and had rotten away to a few pieces of mouldy planks, old furniture and weeds.

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“I know what you’re are probably thinking, but I strongly advise you to think about it. We should have a look around, without judging it from the outside.. You can’t judge a book by its cover.” She spoke, examining the building with curiosity.

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“Does it get any better?” I questioned, and she stared back at me with a hopeful expression. I groaned.

“Is it even liveable?”  I demanded, trying to see the bright side of a damp situation. Again she just stared, pursing her lips.

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“Fine.” I sighed, taking a step towards the house. The smell had me chocking, gasping for clean air. Had someone died in there!?

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“Now, I understand that the landscape isn’t perfect, but let’s look at the positive things first, shall we? It’s a beautiful swampy landscape. So mystical and romantic. Not to mention the location. The privacy is a great thing, no houses on this road!” She rambled, picking her way through the rubble and piled boxes. What were they doing here? Was this some sort of dump?

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“There’s always the option of flattening it all out, which I’m sure can be arranged locally at a cheap price..” She said, looking back round at the pile of heavy boxes. “These can all be removed along with all the rubbish. And this fence” She looked up at the towering chain link fence that cornered off the house (if you can call it that).

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“And look at this little chair. It’s even got its own umbrella. Are you a nature fanatic?”

“No.” I replied. This place was falling apart, how could I survive here?

“Well..” She trailed off. “At least the house is perfectly stable, so it won’t collapse. There’s only a couple of leaks to be sorted out too.. Enjoy the time indoors.”

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Together we took to the steps, slowly taking a step at a time, praying that they wouldn’t break. Luckily they stayed strong.

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Swinging the door open, it let out a loud squeak and I was suddenly hit with a stench far worse than the first.

“It’s really beautiful inside, I promise!” She declared, dragging me inside with her.

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As we moved from room to room, she spouted off the “good” things about this place:

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  • The shoe rack right at the door – already equipped with a few pairs of (reeking, cheap) shoes.

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  • The themed medieval fire torches that lined the walls.

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  • The dinner table with three chairs and a beautiful dead flower withering away on it.

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  • The rusty sink and tiny storage cupboards.

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  • The cooker and fridge (I seriously doubted either worked)

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  • The old traditional fireplace

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  • The oldest TV/Stereo known to man

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  • The “fully functioning” bathroom

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  • The double bed (two mouldy single hospital beds pushed together)

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  • The crib and toys (“For when you meet the special someone”)

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  • And of course the pond outside.

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None of these things seemed good to me. Everything was messy, falling apart, at least 50 years old. Everything smelled, everything was cheap, everything was broken. I couldn’t bear to stay another minute in this place.

“I need to leave!” I stated, ready to run out the door. “I can’t stand another second in this place. I feel like I’m gonna vomit.”

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“Don’t be silly. But if you are actually going to be sick, please use the toilet. I don’t want the house to be messed up.” She smiled, kindly.

Is she fucking serious!? Messed up? As if the house wasn’t messed up already.

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“Why the hell did you show me this place?” I demanded. Usually I was shy and quiet, but there must have been something in the sickly air around this house that drove me insane.

“Well.. It seems like this is the only property that we have on the market currently, within your budget.” She spoke, trying to break it to me nicely.

“Are you kidding? No, it can’t be. I’d rather camp out in the park than live here!” I stuttered, feeling like my short-lived happiness had died. “Are you sure there isn’t an apartment downtown? Please, can you check again!?”

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“I’m sorry sweetie, it’s just not happening. Everything here has a price, and a fairly expensive one at that. Your budget just doesn’t work with those more upper class buildings.” She replied, the annoying grin still plastered on her face.

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“Oh god. Please god no. This can’t be happening to me. I knew all of this seemed too good to be true, an escape from my family, a new life in a new town, a beautiful town, with no one here that used to know me. God, how could I be so fucking stupid!?” I blabbered to myself, banging my head against the grimy wooden wall. I half expected it to collapse in, and the roof to topple on top of me. That way my life would be over quickly, I would finally be reunited with Mum, not have to worry about any of this shit.

“Miss King, are you okay!? Would you like a tissue?” She offered a white crumpled up tissue, clutched in her hand.

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Confused, I brought my hand to my face and discovered hot tears flowing from my eyes. I was such an idiot.

Don’t show anyone weakness. Don’t let them see you cry.

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Quickly, I snatched it from her hand and dried my tears away, desperate to stop them. The pain that was channelling through my body was almost unbearable. Memories of Mum, my brother, my Dad and me before the accident drifted to my head, quickly executed by the replay of the accident, of my Mums death and then finished off with the countless beatings and hopeless life that awaited me.

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“I’m sorry.” I gurgled, turning away from her.

Why did this all have to be so hard? Why was I so unlucky? Why me!? Why was it always me!? I wished again, that it had been me that was killed in the car crash, not my Mum.. ME!

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“Look, I understand this must be hard.” She interjected. “But you have to fight through. I know I don’t know anything about your life, your past, what you’re going through and all of the stuff that you have to deal with. And I know I never will be able to understand. But I can try to help. Buy this place, at least it’s a home. A roof over your head, a little warmer than outside. It’s really cheap, since we just want it sold. You’ll have plenty of money left over to renovate, to build a sturdy structure, get nicer furniture, clear the place up. It’s better than nothing!”

I barely noticed the hand that she’d placed on my shoulder.

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“Fine.” I grunted, “I’ll take it. How much?”

“Well..” She seemed kind of stunned, but also happy it was finally out of her hands. “How about 4 thousand, just for you? I chopped the price even more, because I can see how much problems you’re having. The struggle that you have to face.. A discount, especially for you.”

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“Sure, I’ll take it.” I snipped, and turned round to her, clearing the last of my tears away.

“Great. That leaves you with over  10, 000 left! Enough to get a good start on anything.” She grinned. “I thought you might take it.” She spoke again, placing the rusty keys into my hands. “I brought them, just in case.”

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I tried to fake a smile at her, trying to come off as polite, but instead I twisted my face into a look of sadness and insanity.

“Thanks.” I whispered, my voice sore and dry.

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“No problem! Now, how about I head off back to the agency and get the paper work to fill out. We can fill them out right here, right now. Get you in here for tonight, so you’ll have a proper bed, instead of being boarded up in some crummy motel.” She clapped her hands and headed for the door.

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“Oh,” She yelped, spinning round to me. “Here’s my card.”

She tossed it  to me, and I caught it, puzzled.

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“Call me anytime. If you want to chat, or have some support, I’ve been told I give awesome advice. I could also help you try to land a job somewhere? I have many connections in this city.” She smiled, and headed out.

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I slumped to the floor, letting the card fall from my hands and flutter across the room.

“I might not be back in time for closing time! It’ll take a while to get them sorted out. If I’m not back tonight, I’ll be here first thing tomorrow morning.” I heard her call from outside.

The walls were paper thin, I could hear her every move. I sighed, and let the tears flow.

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As her car roared to life and she pulled away from the house, I couldn’t stop myself. A sob racked my body, as I whimpered, my eyes red and puffy, my face and clothes soaked with tears. Sob after sob left my mouth, whimpers and pleas, mumbling things about my brother, about my Dad.. About my Mother…

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Everything that had happened to me in my life so far, every moment that I had lived, flashed before me, replaying over and over, like an old film stuck on repeat. I begged for it to stop, crying out into the darkness that now surrounded me.

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How long had I been crying for?! I didn’t know.. I didn’t want to know. Everything was running together, my eye sight blurry, my ears ringing, my body aching. Waves of pain, guilt, every feeling imaginable rolled through my body, making me tired, making me exhausted.

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I slowly rose from the floor, still unable to really focus on anything around me. I stumbled forward, not in control of my body, not able to tell it what to do. I briefly heard a bang as I crashed into the wall, but I felt nothing. My entire body was numb… I felt like I wasn’t in it anymore, like I was stuck outside it, watching myself. I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t even speak.

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Somehow I made myself to the sink.

I heard a shrill, desperate voice echo in my head.

Clean yourself up.

I fumbled about, feeling for the tap on the muddy looking sink. My hand scratched against the rusty sides of the sink, but again I couldn’t feel a thing.

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Suddenly, everything came sharply into focus. The sink, the dirty walls, the cracked tile, the taps. But still I couldn’t control myself, and still I couldn’t feel anything apart from a tingling sensation surging up and down my body.

I’d never felt this way before. I’d had a headache, but now my head pounded, I was unable to think straight. I’d never felt so strange. Like I was hollow, like I was some sort of puppet to a greater being. I didn’t feel like me.

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The tap spluttered to life, cloudy cold water pouring out.

About to my put hands in, and splash my face with water, my entire body froze. My eyes caught onto a razor blade, sitting on the side of the sink.

No.

I wanted to scream out, but my mouth was clamped shut, my teeth biting into my cheek. The metallic taste of blood entered my mouth, and I felt ready to be sick.

More tears.

Glancing down at my hands, I realised the blade was being held between my two fingers.

No. Stop.

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I twisted it round, and round, playing with it in my hands.

No. Stop. Please.

Blood seeped from between my fingers, as the blade sliced at my delicate skin.

No. Stop. Please. I didn’t want to do this!

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It’s not like I hadn’t thought about doing it before. I’d been so close numerous times. The blade clutched in my hand, pressed against my skin. I remembered the cold sensation, and then backing out, too scared to dare to do it.

Never had I felt like this.

Like I wasn’t in control..

 

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So much for new beginnings.

 

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My eyes opened slightly, the bright dazzling light burning them. I pressed them shut again, shuffling further under my covers. It was warm, and I felt comfortable. A pillow tucked under my head, a clean mattress beneath me and warm blankets and quilts piled on top. This wasn’t my bed.. I squinted again, trying to make out the room.

“Sweetie, sweetie.. Wake up honey.” I heard a gentle, calming voice right beside me.

I was too tired to wake up, and lying in bed felt so good. I couldn’t leave yet.

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“Come on. Don’t you remember what day it is?!” I heard the voice again. It felt so familiar, so warming.. Who did it belong to? I felt someone prod my stomach, before chuckling.

“Am I going to have to make you get up?” The voice challenged. It belonged to a female for sure, but who?

I felt her hands gently shake me, but I just pressed my eyes even tighter together.

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“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” I heard a young sounding voice yell, right by my ear. Suddenly someone was on top of me, jumping and giggling, falling about on the bed.

Who were these people and why were they in my house?! It wasn’t my birthday..

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Finally, I opened my eyes, sighing.

“Wow..” I whispered, my eyes going wide and my jaw slacking open with amazement.

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“Sleeping Beauty finally decided to wake up, huh?” My Dad joked. But he was young again, sitting on the edge of my bed, right next to..

“Mum!?” I gasped, jumping up from underneath my covers. She sat next to Dad, cuddling into him, grinning back at me.

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“Yes?” She asked, her whole face lighting up. She was the one that had been talking to me.. What was this? What was going on?

Little hands clutched at my arm, and my face was showered with wet, sloppy kisses.

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“Happy 8th Birthday, sis” my little brother yelled. But now he really was little. He looked about 6, laughing and collapsing back onto the bed.

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8!? I jumped out of bed, and realised I was back in my old house again. I rushed out my room, almost tripping over my own feet and hurried to the mirror in the hallway.

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I was eight. Little podgy hands, tiny feet, short legs, hair that hardly reached my shoulders and young features. I even had little t-rex arms.

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“Someone’s excited to go open their presents!” My Dad chuckled, and they were standing beside me, all smiling, all young, all perfect.

In the blink of an eye, I was downstairs, all strange thoughts gone from my mind. I mean, who wouldn’t want to open presents?!

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Torn wrapping paper, cute little bows, boxes and boxes piled on top of each other…  My brother and me tore through them, happy,  joking about together.

Board games, Barney the Dinosaur DVDS, children books, toys and even my own colouring pencils and books.

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Last but not least, we reached a big present (the biggest of them all).

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I stepped forward, instantly knowing what it was. My hands grazed over the neat wrapping paper, that clung tightly to the frame. I untied the bow on top, and put it to the side.

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“Can I help?” My little brother toddled forward, gripping onto the other edge of my present.

I smiled. “Sure thing!”

Together we made quick work of it, and soon enough the wrapping had disappeared.

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“A bike!?” I screamed, running around in circles screaming and jumping in joy.

Everyone was laughing, everyone was joking, everyone was happy.

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Time seemed to pass quickly, me and my brother playing with my new toys, my Dad helping me get dressed in my new clothes that I’d gotten, my Mum preparing a picnic basket.

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Shortly after, we were outside. I was flying along the pavement, my bike wheels spinning faster and faster, my legs pushing harder and harder. My brother ran along beside me, yelling for me to slow down and trying to keep up.

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I glanced behind me and seen my Mum and Dad strolling along behind, hand in hand.

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We reached the park, and me and my little brother ran straight to the playground. We spent hours on it, attempting the monkey bars, zooming down slides, spinning on the roundabout.

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Mum and Dad set up the picnic underneath the gazebo, and then lay there, admiring the scene, keeping a close eye on us and being all lovey dovey.

I hated when they done that. Yuck. Why would Mum ever want to kiss a boy!?

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Eventually, we convinced them to come push us on the swings. My Dad came over and started pushing my brother, my Mum pushed me.

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We laughed and talked, and pretended to be spacemen launching into space. We had competitions on who could go higher, and my brother always let me win. It was my birthday after all.

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When we all got tired, we got carried over to the gazebo, and ate. Treats, chocolates and sandwiches, everything I’d asked for. I really was being spoiled..

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Once we were stuffed full, Mum pulled out the cake me and her had baked the other day. It looked really tasty, and I couldn’t wait to rip into it, no matter how full I was.

They lit candles and everything, singing me Happy Birthday, letting me and my brother blow out the candles and I got to make a wish.

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We were allowed a slice each, and we lay there for a while, talking and telling jokes. My Dad told us a long story about his 9th birthday when him and his Dad had gotten lost in the woods and they’d been forced to camp out and survive the night.

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“On my 9th birthday can we camp out in the garden?” I asked, excited.

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“Sounds like a plan.” My Dad smiled.

“Fine, but no moaning about the cold!” My Mum replied.

“We could cook burgers, and hotdogs, and make a camp fire in the back. We could sing songs, and tell stories..” My Dad continued.

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“And roast marshmallows!” James interjected.

We all burst out laughing, and got onto some other random subject.

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Soon, it started getting cold and we all headed home. The rest of my family were coming over tonight, and we were going to have a big dinner, all for me.

And then tomorrow I was going to have all my friends round, and we’d have a party, all day. I was so excited, I couldn’t wait.

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We got in, and were all lounging on the sofa, watching TV while my Mum worked hard at the stove, trying to get it all ready in time.

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The doorbell rang and she sped out of the kitchen and started running for the door, the tea towel over her shoulder. But she paused half way to the door and stopped, her eyes widening and her jaw hanging open in surprise. She stood directly in front of us, and the look of horror that had crossed her face surprised us all.

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We all rose from the sofa, wondering what was wrong.

“What’s up Mum?” I asked, my voice shaking.

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She looked directly at me, her eyes burning into mine, a look so intense it made me want to cower away behind the couch. It looked as if she were staring right into my soul.

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“I promise..” Her voice was raspy and didn’t sound at all like her.

I gulped, about to ask what she promised but I was cut off by a gurgling sound from the back of her throat.

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And then  it started… Blood pooled at her feet, her eyes rolled back, her face went purple, her skin glowing white. What was wrong with her!?

I watched in fear as her body decomposed in front of my own eyes. Her flesh went off, her skin flaking.. It was horrible!

And then slowly, she twisted her head round, as if she were just trying to look behind her at the person ringing the door. But she didn’t stop, she kept twisting it and twisting it and..

Snap.

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She slumped to the ground, and hit it with such force the floor shook.

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I felt tears flowing from my eyes, and my heart beat going crazy. What had just happened?

I turned round to stare at my Dad and James.

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But they were no longer the people they’d been before. They’d changed, so fast, grown older and colder. They weren’t the same people any more.. They towered above me, their eyes glaring down at me.

If looks could kill, I’d be right down there next to my Mum. They looked as if they were about to murder me.

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They each took a step closer, their fists clenching, their jaws tightening, their entire bodies tensing.

“This is all your fault.” They both spoke at the same time, with dark, chilling voices that sent a shiver down my spine.

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And then I fell, backwards, heading towards the ground. But I sailed right through it, falling further and further into a dark pit that had just magically opened from the ground.

Flailing about, my arms hit at the muddy sides, but I couldn’t grab hold. The dirt just came away in my hands.

My back finally hit the back of something hard, knocking my breath out of me. Struggling, I twisted round and as I looked beneath me, I realised I was lying on the lid of a coffin. My Mothers coffin.

Dirt flew from above me, cascading down, avalanching me. Soon enough, I was covered, and I couldn’t breathe.

“Please help, please don’t do this to me.” I begged, trying to get out of the dirt flow but no was there to listen. I was alone. Alone and left for dead.

 

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So much for leaving the past behind. 

 

A/N = Sorry if people found this chapter depressing, I really didn’t mean it to be so sad. I apologize, but guarantee this is the last sort of chapter.. 

1.0 – Pop Goes The Weasel

Warning: May contain scenes that could offend you, language, violence and mature content. 

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As I dragged my overflowing suitcase towards the awaiting taxi, my mind was filled with a jumble of crazy emotions.

This was it, I was finally leaving. I had done it at last, I had plucked up enough courage to start a new life, a life where I wouldn’t be under constant threat by my dreaded Dad, or my bully of a brother.

Let me explain..

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My Dad was an alcoholic, ever since my Mum passed he’d spent his time crashing on the sofa, surrounded by empty bottles of beer, a bucket filled with vomit and a pile of old dirty clothes. He’d become abusive, hitting me and kicking me. My own Dad hated me, my own family turned on me, they treated me like an outcast. My brother, James, didn’t help. He’d bullied me since I was eight. Even though he was a year younger than me, he had some sort of power over me, some strange spell. I couldn’t fight back against him, I was pathetic, unable to even stick up for myself.

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The sick part of it all was that James enjoyed it. Tormenting me, hitting me, kicking me and even threatening me, he found it all fun.

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Truthfully, it hadn’t always been this way. It all started when my Mum passed away. It shocked us all into a state of insanity. It was so sudden, a scare to us all. Especially me. She’d died in a car crash. And I’d been there.

I was so lucky, I’d escaped the car crash with a mere broken leg and a few cuts and bruises. I wish I could say the same for my Mum..

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Every day, I couldn’t help but think that it was my fault, that I’d caused all of this. I wished that it had been my Mum that lived through it, and me that had died. I felt guilty, constantly plagued by memories of the traumatic experience I’d been exposed to at such a young age.

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As I reached the taxi, and the driver politely smiled at me, taking my bag out of my hands, I bit my lip. I felt a flashback coming on, and I would do anything to resist it. As blood drew from my lip, I was transported to a world of pain and regret.

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“Mummy! Mummy pleeaassseee! I want to go to McDonalds! I’ll do anything!” I begged dramatically, as we got out of the shop and headed towards our parked car.

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“But I promised Daddy that we’d get home straight away, he’s cooking us dinner tonight and he needs to get these ingredients to do it in time” Mum chuckled, indicating the bag that she clutched in her hand.

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“You know Dad won’t mind. If he was here he’d want to go to McDonalds too! Dinner can wait.” I pleaded, clasping my hands together tighter.

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“Fine.” She sighed, with a smile etching across her face. She unlocked the car, and watched in amusement as I bounded towards the passenger seat door.

“Nah ah ah” She tutted, climbing into her driver’s seat and placing the bag of groceries in MY seat.

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I groaned, climbing in the back, and quickly putting on my seatbelt.

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“When can I get to sit in the front? I’m a big girl you know! I’m eight, and a half.” I stated proudly, watching as my Mum started the car and started down the road to McDonalds, the opposite direction from home.

“When you become tall enough, I promise.” She laughed, turning on the radio and humming along.

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“Pinkie promise?” I asked, hopefully, leaning forward and offering my pinkie.

My mum grinned, and turned round slightly, bringing her pinkie to mine.

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Suddenly, the car jerked and twisted onto the opposite road, right into a stream of heavy traffic.

My Mum yelped in surprise, a look of horror crossing her face, as she desperately tried to gain control of the wheel.

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Cars swerved around us, left, right and centre, and my Mum just kept screaming. We spun a little, and the last thing I remembered seeing was the front of a giant moving truck speeding towards us.

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My Mum screams were cut shor-

 

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“Excuse me, miss? Are you feeling okay?” The driver asked awkwardly, standing next to me at the cab.

“Yeah, sorry.” I stuttered, blinking back tears.

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My Mum saved my life, if I hadn’t sat in the back, I’d be dead just like her. We crashed straight into the bus, and she broke her neck and died instantly. I remember seeing her lifeless body in the front seat, slumping limply against the wheel. Crying,  I tried to wake her up. As realisation struck, I started sobbing uncontrollably, and screaming for my Mum back.

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Sometimes I wished I had been in the front. At least I wouldn’t have to go through the pain I felt those years after she died. I wanted to be dead, I wanted her to take my place.

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I was only eight. Seeing something like that was sure to damage my mental health.

I think that’s why everyone hates me.. Because I lived and she didn’t. And I hate me too. They’re right, I don’t deserve to be among the living. On the other hand, she does.

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My Dad had abused me for ten years, but recently it reached an all time high. When he punched me today, I made up my mind instantly that I was leaving.

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I had been in my room, rummaging through old drawers. Pictures of Mum, old school uniforms, diaries from when I was 13, souvenirs from family holidays and school trips.. I came across my savings fund, I kept it in a box at the bottom of my wardrobe, since my Dad never got round to opening a savings account when I was younger.

I counted it up, my eyes widening as I realised how much money I actually had.. But something was wrong. A couple of hundred pounds were missing.. Dad.

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“Get your arse down here!” He yelled from downstairs, his voice croaky.

I clenched my fists together, ready to walk down there and punch him in the face, but I slowed myself down and took deep breaths. Slowly, I picked my way downstairs. He was in the messy livingroom, as always. It smelt like someone had died in there.

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He was sitting on the couch, the TV blaring, a pile of dirty washing, plates filled with mouldy food piled in the corner, and beer bottles scattered across the table.

He had an empty beer bottle in his hand, and James sat next to him, smiling smugly, and texting on his phone.

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As I uncomfortably moved forward, I could tell he was clearly drunk, as usual. I felt like I was sharing a house with two strangers, and their intense glares made me shake in my shoes. All feelings of rage disappeared, now covered with fear.

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“Go get me another beer.” He barked, spluttering a little.

My rage reappeared.

“Don’t you think you’d have one too many beers?” I muttered, picking up some of his dirty clothes and flinging them underneath the couch.

“No!” He yelled, flashing me a disapproving look.

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“Now go get me another beer!” He ordered, grabbing my wrist so tightly it would bruise, and shoved me across the room.

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“No!” I yelled, surprising him and surprising me. Where the hell did that come from? “I’ve had enough of you ordering me about. I’m not your maid.”

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“That is your job!” He roared, drawing back his hand and slapping me hard across the face. I stumbled across the room, my face stinging in agony. He spat in my face, before falling back into the couch.

James just sat there, smirking, as if he’d just witnessed something funny. Then again, James always had a sick sense of humour.

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I walked through to the kitchen, rubbing my face and trying to hold back tears. If I cried, he’d just get angrier. He hated it when I cried. It showed him weakness, and he’d just hurt me more.

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I got a beer out of the fridge, taking a bag of peas out too. I pressed them against my face, and breathed out a sigh of relief. My face cooled down, and I felt so much better.

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I heard a cough, and slowly I turned round, my heart rising to my throat. My Dad stood there, slightly hunched over, his eyebrows raised in a challenge. I gulped.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He pressed, his voice stone cold.

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“I’m sorry. Please, I never meant to annoy you. It just hurt so bad..” I trailed off, seeing a change in his stature.

His hands reached for the bag, and pulled it out of my grip. Throwing it across the room, I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of dishes smashing.

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When I opened my eyes, my Dad was staring at me. The corners of his lips twitched a little, raising into a smile. A wicked look overcame his face, and he picked up a deserted bottle from the worktop. He raised it above his head, and smashed it down on the top of my head with such force that it smashed.

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I yelped in pain, kicking him in the shin, and falling backwards onto the floor. I looked up at him in fear. I hadn’t meant to do that..

Tears were starting to flow down my face, and my throat was as dry as sandpaper.

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“You don’t kick me, bitch! I kick you!” He yelled, kicking me hard against the ribs. I screamed, clutching them.

“You are a disgrace of a daughter!” He growled, slamming his foot down on my ankle. I felt it crack a little, and groaned.

He cursed and insulted me, accompanying each with another kick or punch in the stomach. I just lay there and took it. This was worse than anything he’d ever done.

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Blood trickled down my face, from glass stuck into my scalp.

My Dad eventually stopped, smirking down at me.

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“You stole my money.” I mumbled, starting to sit up.

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“What did you expect me to do!? I’ve used all of Sarah’s life insurance money, I had to get it from somewhere. How was I meant to pay for all of these?” He demanded, looking round at the bottles strewn across the room.

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I hugged my knees, and waited until he left before running up to the bathroom and cleaning myself up. I had to pull out the glass and try to wash the wound it left behind.

I shuffled into my room, my eyes landing on the savings box. The idea popped into my head, and I was sure of it. I was moving out. I had enough money to buy a small house or apartment.

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How was I going to leave though? I thought to myself. Would I tell my Dad, or just go? I was sure he’d stop me, if I did tell him. He may have hated me, but he needed me to clean up, do his washing, get him beers, cook his meals and give him money.

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I decided that I was going to wait till my dad left the house. It didn’t take him long to run out of beers, so he left to go to the nearby store to get more. It was only a short walk away from our house, so I knew I had to be quick.

I saw my chance and took it.

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I called a taxi, packed my bags and waited nervously for it to come.

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When I finally heard the honk of the horn, it felt like music to my ears. I dragged my bag downstairs, groaning as it bounced off every step. James must have heard me because when I got down stairs he came out the living room with a confused look on his face.

“Where the hell are you going?” He asked clearly shocked.

“I’m moving out.” I said bluntly.

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“You!? Moving out?” He sneered, before bursting into fits of laughter. “You wouldn’t last a second out there, in the real world. You’re far too weak and stupid!”

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Ignoring James, I left the house. I looked back to see James’s face turning red. I flinched when I saw him heading for me, but he stopped when he saw the taxi driver watching. I thought he was going to storm out the house after me, and drag me back in but he couldn’t.

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I smiled at the thought of James being powerless.

And that’s where I was now. My bag in the back of the boot, the driver already getting into the car and me standing there in a daze.

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I slumped into the seat, energy draining out of my body, swinging the door shut. As the wheels turned and the engine purred to life, a small smile etched onto my face and I realised that this was the first time I’d smiled in years.

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Driving away from that house gave me the best feeling in the world. My body filled with joy, and as I looked behind me, down the road to my old house, I noticed my brother running after the car, screaming and shouting, his jacket half pulled on and his hair spewing in different directions.

A laugh escaped my lips, and I turned back to the driver.

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I felt like nothing could touch me now. I wasn’t going to be there when my Dad got home, so I wouldn’t be getting the blame. I wondered how he was going to react, how he would treat James. Would James be his slave now? Would he be treated as badly as I’d been treated? Would he be hurt, emotionally and physically, just like me?

Hopefully James would take my place, he deserved it. I grinned at the thought.

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I was safe now, no longer in the clutches of either of them. And my Dad sure as hell wouldn’t track me down and take me back, he was too much of a drunk to do that. Way too lazy. And my brother was too young to leave the house, so by the time he was 18, I’d already be settled and hidden away nicely.

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“Where are you going to, Ma’am?” the driver asked politely, eyeing me through the mirror.

I panicked, remembering that I had no idea where I was heading. I had no home, no place to go, no where to stay and no one to ask for help. I was alone in this big bad world, and there was no way I was going back.

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“Just get me as far away from this town as possible.” I mumbled, awkwardly.

I didn’t want him to catch onto my thoughts, or plans. He didn’t need to know what happened.

He tried to make small talk, but I just pressed my face against the cool window, and watched the fields and houses fly by, ignoring him.

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As the car passed the entrance sign, and I officially left the town, I realised that I hardly had any money or possessions to my name.

I knew that I had to live in a cheap house or apartment,  with only my savings fund to keep me up. I had to get a job, and fast.

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“What’s your name then?” He asked, bringing me crashing back to reality.

“Er..” I stuttered, my mind going blank. I could no longer be Tessa Jackson.. They’d find me, and I despised the last name.

I wasn’t part of that disgusting family anymore,

I was my own person, starting my own family. A better family.

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“T-Tessa.. Tessa King.” I spluttered out, deciding on a name.

King.. My Mother’s maiden name.

I am Tessa King, and this is my new life.

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