Abused

When I was still in Middle School, my mother started dating this one guy. Never cared for him from the start, then again never cared for the type of guys my mom always brought around.

I don't remember much before, but I do remember him moving in with us to be in charge and alot of arguing just before.. After almost a year of him being around I remember it started, I started to be involved with them and well, that's when and how I lost my virginity.. in a threesome with my own mother and her deadbeat boyfriend when I was barely even twelve...

That's how things were since, for as long as he was "a part of this family". Every so often we did it again, being told I have to do what he says because he's the man of the house now(and we need him), or some sort of excuse. I never bought the bullshit, I was just always too scared to refuse or just hoping it would just pass... I don't need to say it, I hated him more as things went on, hated my mom too for going along with it. I didn't feel like I was a daughter, I felt like some toy to salvage a broken(or as I later recognized, abusive) relationship, and a guest at my own home subjected to all the rules of his whim.

For three more years this went on.. three years that hung over me whenever I was at school or with friends. It still does, bit by bit. It didn't get better, he only got worse. Couldn't even keep the illusion that it was a thing that simply included me, because more and more it was just use two, like I was his 2nd girlfriend whenever it fancied him. Or... Just worse, the times he would bring his friend over a couple of times after I was fourteen..

My mom eventually kicked him out of the house. I don't know the real reason why, but she just told me what I already knew, he was a deadbeat lier and a cheater. I never did forgive her though, for letting him do what he wanted and playing along, or turning a blind eye for the following years. By that point, she stopped being a mother for me and just some person who had to feed and pay for school. I cut her out if my life as soon as I could

For the deadbeat bf though. For all I care, I hope he's dead in a ditch.

Nobody in my life now really knows about my past like this, about what went on at home aside from just the vague notion my mom had an abusive bf(or many, really). It's better that way too, it's in the past after all.