MidReal Story
Whispers of Redemption
Scenario: Aki is a girl with anger issues and has a beast in her in the past no one can calm her down until Axel comes into her life Axel is Kindhearted and muscular body and speaks softly pulls Akis heart strings
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Stepdad
Aki's stepfather who is abusive towards her mother and eventually killed by Aki in selfdefense.
Aki
Aki, a girl with a violent past and anger issues, has a complex relationship with her family and struggles to control her emotions, appearance not detailed, personality includes anger and vulnerability.
Axel
Axel, a kindhearted man with a muscular body and softspoken nature, becomes involved with Aki and her family, appearance includes being muscular and having a kind face, personality is gentle and caring.
I was born with anger issues.
I was a violent child.
I was a troubled teenager.
I am an angry adult.
I have been in and out of jail for as long as I can remember.
I have been in countless fights, and I have hurt many people.
But I am not a bad person.
I just can’t control my anger.
And I blame my family for that.
My dad works overseas, and he sends money home every month, but he never calls or texts to check on us.
He is always busy with work, and he only comes home once a year during the holidays.
My mom works at a bar, and she brings different men home every night.
She is always drunk, and she is never around to take care of me or my little brother.
My stepdad is the worst of them all.
He is abusive towards my mom, and he takes his anger out on me and my brother whenever he gets the chance.
I don’t remember a time when he wasn’t around, and I don’t know how my mom ended up with him.
I don’t know if my dad knows what he does to us, but I am pretty sure he wouldn’t care even if he did.
I think that’s why my dad showers us with gifts and toys every time he comes home.
He thinks that it will make up for all the time he is away from us and all the beatings we get from our stepdad.
But what we truly need is his time and his love, not expensive toys or fancy clothes.
Because of my mom’s neglect, I was forced to grow up faster than I should have.
I learned how to cook and clean for me and my brother so that we won’t starve to death or be taken away by strangers.
I made sure he did his homework and took a bath, and I helped him get dressed for school every morning.
But it was still hard to take care of him and my baby sister at the same time, especially when they both needed me at once.
My brother would cry and scream when I was too busy feeding the baby, and the baby would do the same when I was too busy helping him with his homework.
And no matter what I did, I always ended up getting yelled at by my mom when she came home the next day.
She would say that I was too slow or too lazy, and she would punish me by locking me up in the closet or beating me with her belt until I bled.
She would then force me to clean the whole house alone while she slept on the couch with a man she barely knew.
When my sister was born, I thought that my parents would finally love me more than they did before.
But as it turns out, they loved me less.
My mom stopped paying attention to me altogether, and my dad stopped sending me gifts whenever he came home.
He gave them all to my younger siblings instead, putting a smile on their faces while he ignored mine completely.
That hurt more than anything else in the world, and it made me realize how much they didn’t care about me at all.
At first, I thought that maybe my dad didn’t know what to get for a teenage girl because he wasn’t around when I was growing up.
But then I saw how much effort he put into picking out their clothes and toys, and I knew that he just didn’t want to waste his money on someone like me who wasn’t worth it anyway.
I wanted to hate them for treating me this way, but I knew that I couldn’t.
I am their daughter after all.
And I am not allowed to hate them even if they hate me.
So I did as I was told and took care of my brother and sister instead even when my own mom wouldn’t.
I played with them and fed them and bathed them every day and every night.
I made sure they were always safe and sound even if I wasn’t.
I tucked them in bed and told them stories before they went to sleep, and I wiped away their tears when they had nightmares that scared them half to death.
I held their hands when they crossed the street and helped them with their homework when they were struggling in school.
I did everything that a mother would do for her children, and I never asked for anything in return.
But that all changed when my mom’s neglect became unbearable.
When she stopped coming home for days at a time and left us alone without food or water for weeks on end.
When she forgot to pay for our electricity and water, leaving us in darkness and filth until someone came to our rescue.
When she brought home so many men that I couldn’t count them all anymore, and some of them were too drunk to know what they were doing when they touched me or my little brother.
When she yelled at us for not having dinner ready on time, even though she promised that she would be home before lunch.
She would then throw away our food and buy takeout instead while we waited for her to come home, forcing me to stay up past midnight so that I could finish cooking for me and my brother before he went to bed.
It was a terrible way to live, and I knew that something had to change before it was too late.
So I told myself that maybe if I cooked dinner earlier, then things would be a lot better than they were right now.
Maybe if I cleaned up after myself right away, then she wouldn’t have to yell at me or hit me with her belt.
Maybe if I put everything back where it belonged, then she wouldn’t have to get so mad whenever she couldn’t find what she needed.
But no matter what I did, it wasn’t good enough for her.
She would still yell and scream whenever she got the chance, and she would still take her anger out on me even though it wasn’t my fault to begin with.
That night, I was cleaning up after dinner when she came home drunk as usual.
She asked me why our food was still on the table, even though it was already past midnight, and she forced me to reheat everything from scratch before she went to bed.
My brother and sister hid under their blankets while she yelled at me, trying to ignore her so that she wouldn’t get any angrier than she already was.
I hated having to listen to her with someone else while my dad’s photos stared back at me from the wall, but I had gotten somewhat used to it over the years.
If I covered my ears with my pillow, then sometimes it felt like he was right there beside me, wrapping his arms around me as he told me that everything was going to be okay.
But some nights were louder than others, and no matter how hard I tried, I could still hear her laughing as our walls shook around us.
She had a pretty laugh when things were going well, but it turned into something dark and twisted whenever she got angry or upset about something.
And that night, she was very upset about something indeed.
It didn’t take us long to go to sleep once everything was over, even though it took us longer than usual because we were all so afraid of what might happen next.
But we were all so tired from waiting for her that we were able to fall asleep right away without any trouble, even though my brother woke up in the middle of the night because he had to pee really bad but was too afraid to go alone.
We were all still sleeping when the nightmares started.
My little sister had them a lot more often than we did, and they always seemed to be worse whenever our mom brought someone home.
I would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night because of how loud she was screaming and crying from the other side of the room.
It made me so sad to think that she was going through something so terrible at such a young age, but there was nothing that I could do about it except for hold her hand until everything went away.
That night was no exception.
I woke up to the sound of my sister screaming and crying in her sleep, and I quickly ran over to her bed so that I could hold her hand and make everything go away.
I didn’t like the way that her face looked when she had nightmares like this, but there was nothing that I could do about it except for wait for her to calm down so that we could go back to sleep.
I didn’t go back to sleep after everything was over, even though I stayed in bed until the sun came up because I didn’t want to wake up my brother or sister before they had gotten enough rest.
But when my little sister finally woke up a few hours later, her face was still tear-stained and puffy from crying.
She looked so sad and scared that it made me cry too, and I couldn’t help but feel so terrible about everything.
“Don’t leave me alone with him,” she begged.
“Please don’t go anywhere.” She gripped onto my hand as tight as she could and wouldn’t let me go no matter how hard I tried, even when I promised her that I would never leave her alone with our stepfather ever again.
But I knew that I couldn’t be there for her all the time because he lived in our house too, and there was nothing that I could do about it except for hope that he would never hurt us again.
