(Natasha POV)

I remember it like it was yesterday.

My mom's death had taken its toll on my father, she had died during the birth of my baby brother.

Day by day he became increasingly bitter to my brother and I. He blamed us for her death.

I remember it like it was yesterday, the first time he hit me. Black eye, red tear stained cheek.

He never fed my brother, that's how he died. My dad left him to rot in his crib.

He left me alone at the age of six and always, without fail, he would come home with whiskey on his breath and beat me a pulp.

After a year of the broken bones and broken spirit, the men came to take me to a different kind of hell, the BrightHeart orphanage.

I've been in and out of orphanages and foster homes since that, never being able to find a family.

I'm seventeen now, and with my birthday fast approaching, I'm accepting my fate.

I'll never have a family of my own...

(A/n) 

Hope you enjoyed! I'll hopefully get to post a drawing of Natasha soon