You know how you hear those stories about once abused kids growing up and overcoming the difficult life they have been dealt? They become majorly successful- like FBI agents or lawyers or something cool and never have any lingering problems? Well, this isn't one of those stories. In fact, those stories are just that, stories. They are things that I read about in the many books I bury myself in when I'm alone. I used to know how my life was going to be, how I was going to live out my lifeless days: unloved and fearful. Hopeless to the possibility that life, my life, could be anything better than what it is now. I knew that I would either give up, or give in, either one would eventually be the end of me; I didn't think that was so bad. I would no longer be constantly reminded that I was sh*t, and would be sh*t, no matter how hard I tried to make it different. I thought it was all easier just to slip away. But that was before, before Deklan