Main characters name is pronounced like you are saying fine but with a Z IT IS NOT ZAINE DAMN IT ;-; or mine, fine, line, pine but with a Z

Chapter 1

     I was left outside an orphanage when I was a baby, all I know is my name.

Zine Hollow.

     I wasn't always like this.

Growing up and becoming……...a monster no…

A freak…..

     I have had foster parents, but let's just say for now that they all kind of sucked, but I want to talk about the most recent one for now.

    One of them that I called a “foster parent” always drank too much. 

    When he had too much to drink, he became very violent…...

     He was physically abusive and I'm ashamed to say he tried many times to……force himself on me. I am a male, that's how I learned that the same gender could be together. 

Quite…...tragic…. huh?

     While I was living with him, I already knew about my physical differences. I could handle the physical abuse but I fought harder against the sexual kind. 

     I managed to successfully run away from his advances, but I often came out of it covered in bruises. 

     But on the night I turned sixteen……...I became lax.

     I was allowed to leave my foster parents’ home when I was sixteen, if I had enough money and would manage to go to school. I had gotten it accepted by the orphanage that handled my records. 

     Well I was stupid and had let my guard down.

    Being tired from the week's events I passed out on the couch, instead of going to my room and locking the door like I did every night.

To make it short and…..not so sweet….

     I woke up in the middle of the night because my arms hurt with my foster father looming right over me.

     He had my arms pinned over my head and was messing with my shirt. I wasn't physically strong, so there wasn't much I could do. 

     So I panicked.

     I lashed out with my tail which usually was always kept hidden under my shirt wrapped around my waist.

   Hitting him as hard as I could in the face I actually managed to push him off of me. He was drunk, and although he was strong, he was unbalanced because of the liquor.

     He stared at my tail through his drunken haze looking at me with confusion and disgust in his clouded eyes. Before I knew what had happened he had dragged me to the floor pinning my legs with his.

     My arms were crushed and immobilized, over my head by his giant hand. He pulled out a pocket knife and lifted up my shirt. 

My memory gets a bit hazy around this point due to the pain.

My chest hurting, my father whispering, no slurring….monster…...over and over as he sliced almost gently the word that lays over my heart now.

Freak.

I felt my stomach being punctured and I let out a slight wheeze.

     Absolutely terrified and in pain, I watched him get off of me. He went to his room, left me there on the floor with a knife sticking out of my stomach, and blood trickling down from my new wounds. 

     Everything became blurred, and I passed out.

     I woke up a few hours later. The knife was still covered in blood but it was no longer inside of me; it had fallen out and was on the floor by my side. 

     The hole in my stomach had healed, leaving a thin scar. The word freak was still etched over my heart, but the wound had closed. 

     I cleaned up the mess, and ate a granola bar like it was nothing. 

     My foster father came out a few minutes later with a headache but no recollection of what he had done. 

     I left that hell-hole that same day.