Catherine pov

Catherine POV

My life has never been easy since I was born. I was living in agony in my mother's house and was unloved by her, and all I wanted was her love. Instead, I faced hostility and bullying from her and her boyfriend.

I woke up groaning on my bed as I rolled over, my chest pressing against the sheets that covered my head. It was painful. It hurt so much. I felt terrible when the memories of my last night flashed back into my mind. The memories of my abusive mother and her boyfriend. What have I done to deserve all this? I didn’t beg to be born. Why did my mother always treat me like this?

Her guy was my mother's favorite thing. She spent the entire day partying with him, and they were always intoxicated with their other male pals. He nearly raped me one day when she wasn't home. Melody, my dearest friend, rescued me. She was the one who entered the room just as he was going to rape me. I desperately wanted to tell my mother, but I was too afraid. I was afraid she wouldn't believe me. She'd assume I'd seduced him on my own.

I sighed. The wound she inflicted on me the night before still stung. My long brown hair was tangled, and I could feel the moisture of my tears on my cheeks. I think I wept myself to sleep. I opened my eyes, my pupils constricted by the sunlight flowing through the slats of my small window. I got pissed off when I heard my annoying mother's voice calling for me.

Oh! My! God. This is not happening this morning again.  I'm sick of it. I carried my tiny feet downstairs before my mother stormed into my room and beat me up.

As usual, I met her and her boyfriend, making out their usual. They were having a hot erotica season on the couch. It was a bad day for me as usual. When my mother noticed my presence, she gazed up at me, her expression filled with contempt. She smirked evilly as she looked at me.

"Go cook something for us to eat, bitch."

"What should I cook for you, Mom?" I inquired.

"Go cook us something delicious and stop bothering me with your silly question. Get out of here before I make you."

"Ok, Mom," I replied. Despite my injuries, I dragged myself into the kitchen to make some food for them. I finished cooking several varieties of delectable, mouthwatering foods a few minutes later.

"Mom, the food is ready, and I have served it at the dinner," I called her. I had finished, but I had to stand there like a maid, watching them eat the delicious meal with their friends.

I crept away, making sure no one saw me. I crept back into the kitchen and hid a piece of steak for myself. But just as I was about to eat, I was pushed to the floor by a strong hand. I gasped in pain and looked up at my mother's angry, frightening face. My mother, who despised me because of my father. To her, I was merely a source of embarrassment and bad luck. Because she claims my father turned her down when she imagined she'd use me as a stepping stone to fame, riches, and a bag of money. Her fantasy was dashed when he refused to accept her and asked her to terminate her pregnancy. So she despises me and despises my gut. My existence was an embarrassment to her; it was her idea, not mine. Even though I knew she despised me, I was happy to be my mother's daughter. After all, she is my mother.

"What on earth are you doing? You're stealing my food, bitch," she yelled aggressively.

I had accepted everything because I had nowhere else to go or stay. "Melody," my only friend, was my only friend. But I'd had enough of that. Enough of her nonsense and bullying.

I chose to raise my head and yell back at her, unconcerned about whether she would kill me today.

"For God's sake, mother, I am your daughter. Your only child. Did you know that?" I confronted her. "Why on earth are you doing this to me, mother? Is it because of my father? I promise to make it huge and look after you."

"I hate you," my mother exclaimed fiercely, raising her brows. "I despise you for ruining my life. You are garbage. Why can't your birth make me wealthy? I regretted giving birth to a lowly soul like you."

"What?"