I wasn’t always the victim; in fact, I left a few victims of my own.

I had to. It’s called survival, and I wasn’t going to survive if I was weak. I’ll tell you my story but I warn you now, it’s not pretty. I came from a family made up of killers, rapists, and thieves. Remorse isn’t in our vocabulary.

But what I’ve done is not more important than how I got this way. A woman that’s seen way too much and learned everything through trial and error. I can’t even read and write, and while that may be shocking, knowledge is not the only way you gain power.

You have to take what you want and make it a reality because no matter your journey, you have to fight.

Lucky for me, when I needed a weapon, I could use the knife others buried in my back to cut my way through life.

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