Author's note: this book has remained untouched for years, and so has this chapter, so please excuse any errors or mistakes. I've decided to continue writing this book because it holds a special place in my heart and is my very first book. I began writing this book when I was just 13 and now at 23, I have a degree in literature and soon a degree in psychology. I'm also going to officially publish a new book  this year, all thanks to YOU. I love you all <3

Having survived a war in my country, I realized how precious life is and how important it is to chase after what you love because tomorrow is never guaranteed x

Alex's p.o.v

I remember as a kid I've always wanted to be a superhero, I wanted to save lives, I wanted to save my mother's life. I've seen how weak she was, I've seen that stupid shit beat her to death, and she had never complained. I always hid under the table and watched the heartbreaking scene, and once I couldn't bear watching that anymore, I snapped at him, threw a vase, the look on his face sacred me to silence. I was ten at that time. Instead of beating my mum, he started abusing me.

*Flashback*

"Please stop, please don't hurt mum." I begged desperately. "Please...."

Pain inginted in her brain as her face collided with the rough ground. The copperesty taste of blood filled her mouth. She layed there for several seconds, probably too frightened to cry out or to move, her eyes were completely shut.

"Alex go to your room." Mum's voice was a whisper.

"No! You stupid old man, how dare you touch my own mum?! I hope you rot in hell." I wasn't scared at that moment, I wanted him to stop hitting my mum.

His eyes suddenly were on me, he laughed a deep throaty laugh, I could smell the beer on his breathe. "You brought this to yourself kid."

And that moment, I knew there's no such thing called 'superhero', there are only bad people in this world that can crush you in seconds.

From that day, I was abused daily, my childhood was ruined, my life turned into hell. The only positive thing was, I was the only one getting abused. My mum, like the scared freak she was, sat there silently, watching him hit me.

Her love to him was disgusting.

*flashback ends*

Many abused children cling to the hope that growing up will bring escape and freedom.

I am still a prisoner of my childhood, attempting to create a new life, but every time I fail and the trauma haunts me again.

Childhood memories were like airplane luggage; no matter how far you were traveling or how long you needed them to last, you were only ever allowed two bags. And while those bags might hold a few hazy recollections—a diner with a jukebox at the table, being pushed on a swing set, the way it felt to be picked up and spun around—it didn't seem enough to last a whole lifetime.

By the time we began to understand enough about what the world to ask the right questions, our visit is over, and someone else is visiting, asking the same questions.

I don't believe in love, the main reason was because of my mother, I saw how weak she was whenever her husband talks to her. It was disgusting. No matter what he does, she forgives him, a simple kiss was like heaven to her. If that was love is, I don't want to love, I'd rather live single forever.

When Angel hugged me, I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to say, I thought she was a happy person, her family treating her like a princess. Maybe I was wrong.

The thing that makes me a worse person than I already am was bullying. I bullied Angel, made her feel depressed. But I couldn't help it, she was like a light in darkness, I was so jealous of her. I was always depressed, that kind of depression that doesn't disappear. My life was so hard, I always feel worthless.

Murmuring these words to Angel made me feel better. When the darkness consumes the place, I stare at the ceiling, thinking, thinking about my pathetic life, thinking of how much of a monster I am for bullying a girl like Angel.

"Oh, monsters are scared," said mum. "That's why they're monsters."

She was so damn right. We make our own monsters, then fear them for what they show us about ourselves.

"You aren't worthless, whoever said that just wants you to feel broken because you're so damn strong."

I heard her laugh. I heard her anxieties in her laughter.

Burying her face into my shoulder, her heart beating against mine. "You aren't so bad, Alexie, I know that. You aren't bad." She murmured half inaudibly, as her eyes briefly met mine.

Alexie, the nickname she'd given me when we were kids. I smiled at her.

*flashback*

"I'll call you Alexie." The little Angel said, writing the nickname down in the sand.

"You're already an angel, I don't think you need a nickname. Because 'Angel' describes you just perfectly."

*flashback ends*

She let out another big sigh in my arms and then thanked me for the hug.

"Do you need a drink?"

She nodded as we both sat down, the bartender later gave us our drinks. "Is this the first time you come here?" Angel asked as she drank her vodka.

"No, I always come here when I'm angry, and I'm like always angry." I let out a laugh on how stupid I sound. The sound was foreign and awkward to my ears nut Angel didn't seem to notice.

She let out a ragged sound, something between a sob and a laugh. "Ew, this is so disgusting. I'm never," a hiccup,"ever," another hiccup, "going to drink this."

She drank the whole thing a moment later. I shook my head, a sly smile on my face.

At that moment, I knew Angel's life wasn't all rainbows as I always had thought. It was something heartbreaking, and I was so damn curious.

There was a connection between Angel and I, not a physical attraction, a connection that was easily made when we talked. It was like she was broken and I was too. Broken souls always managed to understand the other. They understand the pain, the felt the pain.

It was like my dad's funeral, everyone was simply saying 'I'm sorry' no one ever understood the pain I felt instead only the ones who had lost one of their parents.

Everyday I'm reminded that I'm still that boy getting beaten until he fainted. I'm still that boy looking for love, hoping that one day, he would finally feel alive.

Previous notes written in 2016:

I cried while writing this chapter. I hope this clears some things up.

//Do you still hate Alex?//

I hate wattpad's new update. Ugh.

Quote by Jennifer E. smith