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Name: Nikki
Title: A Hundred Scars.
Summary: Angie is used to pain.
Notes: Warnings for child abuse. Takes place from late 1994 to early 2003.

She was around seven when it started. Dad started staying home more, drinking more. He was a lot angrier now, something that Angie was finding out the hard way. She'd always been sarcastic, a 'smartass' like her father had always muttered under his breath when she talked back to him before.

Now he just hit her and called her stupid for talking about things she didn't know anything about. He found a lot of reasons to whip out his belt. Angie wouldn't be fully telling the truth if she said she didn't try to provoke him sometimes, even after there was no way to comfortable lay down and sleep thanks to bruises and welts that would mostly be covered by the next day's clothes at school.

Her parents started leaving Sarah alone around the same time, too, except Sarah was five and not like Angie, and cried a lot more because of it. She'd always run to find Angie, in tears, after she would try to get her parents attention and they would only silently shove her away or ignore her completely.

Angie started taking care of Sarah a lot more after that. She would get her bathed and dressed in the morning, and manage breakfast for the both of them when she could before they hurried off the school, until Sarah was old enough to do it herself. Luckily they were poor enough to get free lunch at school, and Mom cooked supper. Usually. Sometimes there would be enough left over to split between Sarah and Angie.

Things got more sideways the older she got. Kids at school obviously knew she was different; they didn't know how because Angie played rough at recess and none of the other kids questioned bruises or scrapes for the first few years. When Angie started acting 'weird', that all changed. Suddenly, she was fucking angry, and not the angry she had been before, when she'd just been generally pissed at the world for the hand it had dealt her.

Now it was unable to stay still, almost snarl with every word, resist the urge to punch the wall, her locker at school, herself in the face angry, and she took it out on everyone else. She started fighting people that pissed her off, actual fighting, not tussling in the school yard like all the boys did. It didn't matter who she was fighting, or what for, she still went fucking crazy just trying to hurt them as much as she could in any way she could. Considering her tolerance for pain was pretty fucking high at that point, it was easy to win even if she didn't have bulk on her side. She was fast and could dodge quicker than anything before reappearing and punching who the fuck ever twice in the face.

It also helped that she could usually turn around and outrun them when she needed to, when she remembered that retreat was actually an option. It became a bit more common after she found out that being gay was a thing, and it was never something she'd been able to hide. Retreat was an option she hated, but Angie hated losing more. She was enough of a loser as it was.

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February 2012

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