I used to be a rebellious child. It was so bad that I had to see counsellors.
In addition, I am not on good terms with my mother. I hate her; yes I do. I hate her so much that I even thought of killing her. I have an elder brother who is twenty-two years old and a younger brother aged eighteen.
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I ran away from home when I was fifteen. I admit that I mixed around with the wrong company since primary school. My mum was a very strict woman. Whenever I did something that she didn't like, she would whack me with a cane or belt. Sometimes, she would turn on the stove and force my head towards it. She would also threaten me with a chopper. No matter how many times she abused me and no matter what methods she used, I still got down on my knees and apologized even though it usually wasn’t my fault. However, I was never sincere. Deep in my heart, I planned ways to silence her. I was an angry child.
She dotes on my elder brother a lot.
Shortly after I left home, my parents’ relationship soured
and my mum blamed me for it.
My younger brother was adopted by my aunt since birth. He hates my mum as well because he witnessed her abusing me many times.
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I thought I found my perfect partner when I met this guy when I was fifteen years old. I knew him through one of my juniors. He is a year older than me. He isn't handsome but he has big eyes.
We exchanged text messages for two months before going out together. I enjoyed every moment spent with him. He would leave dinner at my doorstep daily and pamper me with little gifts. He never complained about anything and would take me out on his bike. Everything was sweet.
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