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my name is alexandria lee . my life was perfect living in military school but my father just had to die so i am now being sent to my mothers family and when you are send to live in a mafia house i am pretty sure you wont tell anyone about you being in military well i usually dont lie but this little detail i just had to omit or i dont know what i will have to go through. but who knew what i will face is betrayal and backstabbing and death fortunately or unfortunately i got a chance through a system to return to the start and change my life , my story but is the system truly helping me or trapping me in other worlds can i even trust someone again after all i have been through only time will tell if i will ever be able to complete missions and return to my world .................. join the journey of a girl whose gone through too much bullying , abuse , thrown to boots camp and military school, and then betrayal and backstabbing now what happens when she is thrown in to new worlds one after another to complete missions if she wants to live
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MsBamasAngel
Sa_Sa_Mi
Chapter 1: 1: Backgound
6-year-old Alex's POV:
"Mommmyyyyyyy weeeeeeee!" I giggle uncontrollably as my mother tosses me into the air and catches me, creating a thrilling moment of pure joy. I've always adored my mommy, and she loves me so much. She also loves ballet and has been teaching me the graceful art form. But every time we start our ballet lessons, we end up getting caught up in playfulness and laughter.
"Remember, baby girl, I love you and always will," my mommy assures me with a warm smile, her words comforting and reassuring. Yet, deep down, I wonder why my ballet skills don't measure up to hers. I yearn to be as good as her so that we can perform ballet together, as a team.
"Honey, you will be even better than me when you grow up," mommy gently responds, cupping my face in her hands. "Just remember to express your emotions through dance. That's the true essence of ballet." Her gray eyes, so beautiful and kind, gaze into mine, instilling a sense of confidence and determination.
9-year-old Alex's POV:
Today is the day of my very first ballet performance. Mommy says I am ready, capable of executing dance steps that even girls twice my age find challenging. As I stand nervously backstage, my ballet teacher urges me to start, her patience wearing thin. But I can't begin without mommy. She promised me she wouldn't miss this important moment.
"But my mommy isn't here—" I begin, only to be interrupted by the principal's solemn announcement of my name.
"Alexandria, I'm sorry, but your father is here to pick you up," the principal conveys, a hint of pity in his eyes. "You should go. It's urgent."
Confusion and worry fill my young mind as I approach my father. "Daddy, what's wrong? You called for me," I inquire, seeking answers. However, my father's behavior is anything but comforting. He roughly grabs my arm, dragging me towards the car, and his harsh words cut through the air.
"You bitch! You're the reason your mother died. Why are you ALIVE?" he screams at me, his anger and resentment evident. "But don't worry, I will make sure your life is worse than being dead." And, sadly, he follows through on his malicious promise.
10-year-old Alex's POV:
It has been a year since everything changed. Oh, how I miss my mom. I still wait for her, hoping she will come and rescue me from this nightmarish existence. My dad has transformed into a monster since she left us. He inflicts physical and emotional pain upon me.
He beats me relentlessly, leaving new scars upon my body. He forces me to repeat chores over and over again, even when everything is spotless. His addiction to smoking is apparent, as evidenced by the burns he purposely inflicts on my arms. But the worst of all is when he shatters my dreams of dancing by breaking my legs, a cruel reminder of my mom.
He no longer loves me. In his eyes, I see only disgust. Mommy, please come back and take me away from this living hell.
13-year-old Alex's POV:
For the past four years, my father has subjected me to unrelenting abuse. He revels in giving me new scars, marking my body with his cruel intentions. I used to believe that escape was impossible, that I was forever trapped in his clutches. But today, I met a military uncle, and in a desperate plea, I begged him to take me with him. Reluctantly, he agreed, his eyes filled with a mix of pity and compassion. Tomorrow morning marks the beginning of a new life for me, one where I hope to find solace and freedom from the torment I have endured.