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Dreame - Read Best Romance
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!!" he hollered back at me. He whipped me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved into my thighs. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to
The Bam Box - Home
The Bam Box - Home
Pops PH
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Batman Comic Book Fanfic | Project B
Batman vs. Jason Comic
Batman vs. Jason Comic
Batman vs. Jason Comic
Batman vs. Jason Comic
Batman vs. Jason Comic
David's Figures Kingdom
The names David, I been collecting comic books and action figures since when I was 2 years old. I'm a big fan of Hasbro and NECA and been collecting their toys for a long time.
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Z2 Comics
Presenting: Sound & Fury. Written by bestselling comic book writer Jason Aaron (Thor) and drawn by Takashi Okazaki (Afro Samurai, Summer Wars, Batman Ninja). ⚔️
Dream Reach Media - DreamReachMedia
Going At It Alone: The Importance Of Self-Production Too many actors believe that they need to be working with a huge, million-dollar budget to make a truly great film. Indeed, the idea that more money leads to better content is one of the age-old myths perpetuated by Big Hollywood. The reality is that nothing could be further from the truth. While it is certainly true that a larger budget allows for more resources, more does not always equal higher quality, particularly when it comes to crafting a breathtaking piece of cinema. Why Actors Should Create Their Own Content: The reason for this is simple: the less you have to work with, the more grounded to reality you must remain. The more grounded to reality you must remain, the more relatable to audiences your film will be. The more relatable to audiences your film will be, the more successful it shall be. The more successful it shall be, the happier you are. The happier you are, the more likely you are to keep making great movies. Take, for instance, a film like Clerks, written and produced entirely by one of the actors within the film, Kevin Smith. Filmed almost entirely in one location, the convenience store in which Smith was working at the time, the budget for Clerks was less than thirty grand, paid for through a combination of maxed-out credit cards, comic book sales, and some insurance money one of the actors was awarded for a car lost in a flood. This film is now a cult classic, recently inducted into the National Film Registry at the Library of Congress. But just imagine how things would have turned out if Smith did not have total freedom to experiment with the script and cinematography. It may have turned out alright, but people probably wouldn’t still be watching it to this day, and it wouldn’t have spawned sequels and an animated television spin-off. That is not to say that you should be creating solely with the intent of fame; however, you should understand that it is possible to produce excellent content on your own watch and dime. How We Can Help: Here at Dream Reach Media, we recognize the value of actors being able to unveil their artistic vision without the constraints of a studio dictating their every move. This is why we provide actors with an extensive set of resources in order to facilitate the process of self-production. For actors looking to become financially and creatively independent, we offer the Dream Reach Actors Empowerment Self Investment System (DRAESIS), an eight-week hybrid program that inculcates in actors the skills needed to run a highly successful production company, all while maintaining the level of free time needed to focus on their acting careers as well. The question remains, though--how do we stack up? Well, the results are in, and they’re quite impressive. Says one client, actress Isabeall Q: “the Dream Reach experience has taught me so much...my investment is paying for itself every day both in credibility as an actress and because I’m booking paid roles!”; another, Yan-Fisher Romanovsky (who has worked with Oscar winner Remi Malek and the man, the myth, the legend--Nicolas Cage), compared Dream Reach CEO Daniel Brea to Batman. Right now, Gotham needs a hero--and by Gotham, we mean your career. Reach out to us today, and take the first step towards a whole new world of opportunity. Find out about DRAESIS and watch our free training video here: https://dreamreachmedia.com/draesis/
Starfutbol
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Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" He hit me one last time. I trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation. That is what my father thought of me. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby took away her life. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. The water burned my cuts. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't there. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start to walk to my bus stop. I sigh, another day at school. Although I am not bullied in school I can feel that everyone hates me. No one approaches me an
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" He hit me one last time. I trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation. That is what my father thought of me. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby took away her life. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. The water burned my cuts. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't there. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start to walk to my bus stop. I sigh, another day at school. Although I am not bullied in school I can feel that everyone hates me. No one approaches me an
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" He hit me one last time. I trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation. That is what my father thought of me. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby took away her life. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. The water burned my cuts. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't there. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start to walk to my bus stop. I sigh, another day at school. Although I am not bullied in school I can feel that everyone hates me. No one approaches me an
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" He hit me one last time. I trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation. That is what my father thought of me. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby took away her life. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. The water burned my cuts. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't there. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start to walk to my bus stop. I sigh, another day at school. Although I am not bullied in school I can feel that everyone hates me. No one approaches me an
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!!" he hollered back at me. He whipped me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved into my thighs. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. I felt a sharp pain on my abdomen and realized that my father had kicked me. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this hell that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… Chapter 2 Life Is A Gamble I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" he hollered back at me. He hit me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!!" he hollered back at me. He whipped me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved into my thighs. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. I felt a sharp pain on my abdomen and realized that my father had kicked me. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this hell that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… Chapter 2 Life Is A Gamble I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 de
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" He hit me one last time. I trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation. That is what my father thought of me. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby took away her life. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. The water burned my cuts. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't there. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start to walk to my bus stop. I sigh, another day at school. Although I am not bullied in school I can feel that everyone hates me. No one approaches me and
The Souled Store
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" He hit me one last time. I trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation. That is what my father thought of me. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby took away her life. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. The water burned my cuts. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't there. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start to walk to my bus stop. I sigh, another day at school. Although I am not bullied in school I can feel that everyone hates me. No one approaches me an
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" He hit me one last time. I trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation. That is what my father thought of me. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby took away her life. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. The water burned my cuts. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't there. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start to walk to my bus stop. I sigh, another day at school. Although I am not bullied in school I can feel that everyone hates me. No one approaches me an
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" He hit me one last time. I trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation. That is what my father thought of me. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby took away her life. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. The water burned my cuts. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't there. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start to walk to my bus stop. I sigh, another day at school. Although I am not bullied in school I can feel that everyone hates me. No one approaches me an
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" He hit me one last time. I trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation. That is what my father thought of me. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby took away her life. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. The water burned my cuts. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't there. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start to walk to my bus stop. I sigh, another day at school. Although I am not bullied in school I can feel that everyone hates me. No one approaches me an
trib.al
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!!" he hollered back at me. He whipped me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved into my thighs. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. I felt a sharp pain on my abdomen and realized that my father had kicked me. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this hell that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… Chapter 2 Life Is A Gamble I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'
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Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" He hit me one last time. I trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation. That is what my father thought of me. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby took away her life. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. The water burned my cuts. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't there. I swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start to walk to my bus stop. I sigh, another day at school. Although I am not bullied in school I can feel that everyone hates me. No one approaches me an
Dreame - Read Best Romance
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" he hollered back at me. He hit me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't
Dreame - Read Best Romance
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" he hollered back at me. He hit me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't
Dreame - Read Best Romance
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!!" he hollered back at me. He whipped me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved into my thighs. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. I felt a sharp pain on my abdomen and realized that my father had kicked me. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this hell that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… Chapter 2 Life Is A Gamble I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'
Dreame - Read Best Romance
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" he hollered back at me. He hit me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't
Science Fiction, Fantasy, Horror News | SYFY WIRE
Dreame - Read Best Romance
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" he hollered back at me. He hit me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't
Dreame
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" he hollered back at me. He hit me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't
Dreame - Read Best Romance
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" he hollered back at me. He hit me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't
Dreame - Read Best Romance
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" he hollered back at me. He hit me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't
Dreame - Read Best Romance
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!!" he hollered back at me. He whipped me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved into my thighs. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. I felt a sharp pain on my abdomen and realized that my father had kicked me. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this hell that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing
Dreame - Read Best Romance
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!" he hollered back at me. He hit me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved to me. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this place that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'm wearing a pair of pants and a big sweater. They hide my scars and bruises. Doesn't mean they aren't
Dreame - Read Best Romance
"DADDY PLEASE!" I begged to my so-called father. "SHUT UP!!" he hollered back at me. He whipped me one last time. My back oozed blood and my body trembled with fear. At least today wasn't as bad as every other day. He wasn't drunk today so I didn't have to worry about the broken bottles being shoved into my thighs. I could never understand how a father could treat a child in such a cruel and inhumane way. What did I ever do to him? Oh, wait... I remember... I killed my mother... According to him, my birth was her death. My mother was 22 when she became pregnant with me. My father was overjoyed with the pregnancy. Up until he found out that she could not give birth. She would die from it. Knowing that his precious 'Mate' would die from the birth he was quick to change his mind. My mother, on the other hand, refused, as any other good mother would do. Quickly after my birth, my father named me Bane. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't Bane the name of a boy? Isn't one of the characters from the comic book series Batman named Bane? Well, my answer is yes and yes. Bane is actually a word that means Destruction, Annihilation, murderer. That is what my father thought of me. I am a murderer. They say werewolves mate for life. Once a werewolf finds its mate, they are bonded together as one as soon as the male claims the female. Now whereas a normal couple consisting of two werewolves would be mates. My father and my mother were different. My father is a werewolf. A strong one at best. He was the main fighter of his pack and the second in command. I guess you could call him a Beta. My mother, on the other hand, was a normal human. She was small and fragile. That's why having a baby killed her. Her body was too small. Now I don't mean small as in underdeveloped. I just mean small as in 5ft and about 110 lbs. My father, on the other hand, was 6'4 and around 220 lbs. My father was easily twice my mother's size. "GO TO YOUR ROOM. YOU ARE NOT TO BE FED TONIGHT!" my father's voice smacked me back into reality. Too scared to say a word I used the little bit of strength I had left and I got up from the floor. I felt a sharp pain on my abdomen and realized that my father had kicked me. "FASTER" he yelled at the top of his lungs. I dragged my body upstairs and locked myself in my room. I laid on the bed and tears started to flow from my eyes. 17 years and I still could not endure my father's rage. How pathetic. I should be accustomed to it by now. I knew that I was bleeding, I walked into my bathroom and turned on the hot water. I stripped from my clothing and slowly climbed in. The water burned my cuts. Capturing the blood and dragging it down the drain. I whimpered but did not move. The pain will pass. The pain makes me feel alive. It reminds me that everything soon passes. I just hope this hell that I call home passes too... After my shower, I put on a different pair of clothing and climbed into bed. I cried quietly to myself until my sleep consumed me. Darkness, it is my only escape. It is the only thing that makes me feel safe… Chapter 2 Life Is A Gamble I woke up the next day to a very large pain in my back. Memories start to flood my head as I start to remember last night. I sigh, nothing new. I slowly get up but I can feel the pain. I hold back a cry and start to get dressed for school. I am putting on my shoes when I hear the front door open. My dad has left. That makes my muscles relax. Thank god... Once I have finished getting dressed for school I walk downstairs. I pass by the kitchen and see the fridge is locked. Of course, dad said no dinner. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't wake up while he was sleeping and grab something to munch on. I see an apple on the counter and a note next to. 'Eat it. No lunch or dinner today.' I sighed. Oh, course he would leave me something like that. I grab the apple and place it in my backpack. Next, to a granola bar, he left me yesterday morning. I grab a cup and drink some water. I walk out of the house. I'm so happy it's cold. I don't want to wear a sweater while its 90 degrees outside. I'