There I was at fifteen, holding my mom's hand, walking into my stepdad's house nervously.

He sat on the couch, scowling as he sized me up, while my stepsister devoured a cream cake beside him.

I couldn't help but eye the cake hungrily, swallowing hard.

My mom caught this and slapped me so hard that I tumbled to the floor.

"Embarrassing creature! Get down and show some respect! Look at you, drooling over cake like you deserve it!"

I stood my ground, refusing to kneel. My mom forced my head down, banging it repeatedly against the cold floor until my face was smeared with blood. Only then did my stepfather crack a satisfied grin.

That night, I was allowed to sleep in the living room.

In the dead of night, my bandaged wounds throbbed painfully from infection. Curled on the floor, I whimpered quietly.

My stepsister, on her way to the bathroom, heard me and yelled, "Get out of here!"

My mom and stepdad were also awakened by the noise. They all looked on coldly as I tried to explain, but my mom interrupted me.

With an icy tone I'd never heard before, she suggested, "Maybe you should sleep in the hallway."

Terrified, I curled up in the dark hallway, shaking uncontrollably.

I whispered to myself, "Hold on, Lexi. Just a little longer till dawn."

But I almost didn't see the next sunrise.

I was freezing, curled into a ball, my head throbbing without reason.

In a blurry vision, I saw my deceased father smiling and reaching out to me, beckoning me to join him.

Instinctively, I reached out, but just as I was about to touch him, I realized he had been gone for years.

I started sobbing loudly, "I don't want to die! I want to live! I still have school to attend!"

The next morning, as my mom was taking my stepsister to school, she discovered me lying in the hallway, convulsing, unconscious.

She knelt down and slapped me twice across the face.

"Lexi, you really play the part well, don't you? Get up, stop playing dead!"

When I remained unresponsive and started foaming at the mouth, she finally panicked.

A neighbor on his way to work saw my condition and hurriedly carried me to the hospital.

The doctor diagnosed me with a high fever from an infected wound and urged immediate hospitalization to avoid death.

Yet, hearing the upfront cost, my mom hesitated.

She tried to pull me off the hospital bed, muttering, "This much for treatment? Why don't you just rob us? Lexi, get up, if you're going to die, do it at home!"

If not for the compassionate doctor who covered my medical expenses and cared for me, I might have died.

On the day of my discharge, she gently touched my head and said softly, "Lexi, take care of yourself. Remember, if you ever face any trouble, come find me."

I nodded, still too naive to understand that she would be my lifeline.

On the way home, I reassured myself quietly, "Just obey, Lexi. If you listen, things will start to look up."

But they didn't.

I never even got the chance to obey.

When I got back home, my stepdad and stepsister still gave me the stink eye.

Whatever I did, it rubbed them the wrong way, triggering a smackdown for no good reason.

That day, my mom made roast pork. Seeing no one around, I couldn't resist; I snuck a piece. I hadn't tasted meat in ages.

Of course, my stepsister walked in just then.

With a nasty sneer, she tattled to my mom, "Auntie, look at the little thief you brought home, stealing meat!"

Tears started rolling down my cheeks. Even the family dog gets meat, so why am I a thief for taking a bite?

My mom slapped me without even asking, knocking me off balance, and my head cracked against the table's edge.

Just home from work, my stepdad saw me clutching my head and jeered,

"What now? Faking an injury to squeeze some cash out of us?"

"If you're that hard up for money, why not make it worth your while and spend the night with me?"

Blinded by anger, I charged him and landed a punch that left him spitting blood.

That night, my mom tore my clothes off and pulled my hair like she'd lost her mind, crying and cursing.

"You're so shameless, always flirting with every man!"

"You should be glad he even looked your way! How dare you strike him, you ingrate!"

"Love flirting so much? Go strut outside naked and show everyone!"

My stepsister clapped along, thrilled, "Yes! Let everyone see just how shameless she is!"

Despite my pleas, my mom and stepsister were unmoved. I ended up outside, clad only in my underwear.

That night, I sat by the door, arms crossed over my chest, face buried in my knees, and drifted off to sleep.

Around midnight, a drunk passed by and, spotting me vulnerable, started to make his move.

I woke up terrified, struggling, but he was too strong and pinned me down, about to force himself on me.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, which woke the neighbors, one of whom came out to check.

A neighbor called the police, who arrived with a social worker. They gave my mom and stepdad a stern lecture and warned them never to let me sleep outside again.

I hoped life would get better, but it didn't.

My mom dragged me back inside, pulled out a fifty-dollar bill, and handed it to me with an apologetic look.

"Lexi, you've embarrassed us too much. If you stay, it'll tarnish your sister's reputation."

"I have no choice. She's more important to me. This is all I can spare. You're on your own now."

I slapped the money away, yelling, "Really? This is pocket change. Are you kidding me?"

"I don't need your money, and I'm done with you for good!"