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"Believe me, my parents, and my siblings, fucking suck. They gave me so many issues, it ain't funny." She responded.
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"I ain't got me a dad, just got me a father. He ain't even a man," Marco started rambling "he's a fucking monster who I can't wait to see rot in hell and even then I bet the devil himself will be scared of him that son of a-" He stopped, his hands curled into fists as he took a shaky breath, making his hands flat again. "I don't like him."
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"My family... they, uh, they liked to beat me, lock me in dark, cold, tight rooms. My sister would steal my things, and I would have to suck it up. My brother would bruise me, 'suck it up'. My parents would do anything, and everything, they wanted to me. If I complained? It was the, 'We're your parents, we can do what we want', or the, 'After everything we've done for you, this is our repayment? You owe us,' shit. Or, my personal favorite from them, 'What's yours is ours, and what's ours is ours. You're so undeserving of nice things'." She stated.
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"Mine too." He murmured quietly. "I think I had at least forty trips to the hospital due to trauma wounds before I was even seven. My father was an alcholic, drug addict, really everything you could be, he was. Then my mom died. God I miss her, she was the only nice one there in that hell hole. That made him even worse, he'd finish a beer and break the bottle over your head, leave you locked out for weeks in sub zero tempatures, bound and gag you and leave you locked in a closet for days, burn out his cigarettes on your arms, cut you with knives to 'test if their sharp', and if you cried a single time he said you'd never be a man." Marco explained, slipping his eyes shut and resting their for a moment, wanting the memories gone.
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"My dad tried to kill me. I'm not joking, on multiple occassions. My mom, once, pushed me down a flight of steps, my brother threatened to smother me, my sister just electrocuted me. I'm not diminishing your trauma, I promise." She stated.
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"I know, just finally feel fine saying it so, if you think I am i'm not, just finally am able to talk about it without shutting down." He explained, flipping his eyes back open.
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"I get it. My family cut me with knives, burned me, literally tried to smother me, electrocuted me." She stated. "I ran away at fourteen, and I've lived here since."
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"Me too, even had a moment when we were at the national FFA convention and I got the opprotunity to speak and one of the questions asked was 'what are those bruises from?'. Infront of all of America, no big deal, y'nkow." He chuckled.
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"Speaking of conventions and showing, there's a rodeo coming up. Are you participating?" She asked. "I'm planning on registering, so, if you are, I can just sign you up, pay the fee. It's completely up to you, though. I don't think there will be bullriding, but I'm not sure."
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"I mean, if there's no bulls or broncs then no thanks, if there is then yeah, I will." He agreed.
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