Lena was never meant to fit in. Her life, a twisted narrative written in fragments from the very first breath. Born into a family that never quite knew how to love, she was taught early on that love was conditional. Her parents were supposed to be her protectors, her guardians, but instead, they became the very people she feared most.
Her mother's temper was like a bomb waiting to explode. One moment, they'd be fine, and the next, Lena would be burned by the sheer force of her mother's rage. The worst incident—her palm burned in a split second for a small mistake. She was just a child—but that didn't matter. The burn wasn't just physical. It was the reminder that her mother's love came with a cost. There were never any apologies, only unspoken grudges.
Then, there was her father, a man who was swallowed by his own demons. His addiction to alcohol made him a shell of a man, a volatile force in the house. The belt was his weapon of choice, used as a tool to silence, to overpower. It wasn't a punishment; it was an act of domination. Lena remembers the sting, the tears, the feeling of helplessness, and how her father's face would twist into something almost unrecognizable as he struck her. The physical pain never left, but what stayed the longest was the emotionally barren silence that followed—his absence in her life, both in body and soul.
But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the emotional neglect, the coldness. Her existence never mattered enough for anyone to fight for. Lena was the invisible child—the one left to fend for herself.
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