My parents sent me to the devil's school

To make me behave, my parents sent me to a "reform school." It was more like a prison. I was beaten, shocked, locked up, and even…assaulted. They got their wish; I became obedient, crying and begging on my knees, promising to be good. But then they started to regret it, their voices trembling, "Ashley, what have we done to you?"

My birthday was the day they brought me home. I wore the princess dress they'd laid out. Their eyes lit up. I never wore dresses. I’d been in judo and kickboxing since elementary school, and later I got into boxing. Pants were just more practical. My parents would always yell, "All that fighting! You're not acting like a young lady at all! Why can't you be more like your cousin Chloe, a proper girl?"

I used to ignore them. Now, I obeyed. Mom beamed. "That school really works wonders! I can't believe our Ashley is finally so well-behaved." Dad, relieved, immediately arranged for a thank-you banner to be sent to the school.

At the birthday party, Chloe, in a tasteful dress, greeted the guests. When she saw me, her eyes darkened for a moment, but she quickly recovered, approaching me with a smile. "Ashley, you look beautiful today, even prettier than me." She offered to snip a loose thread from my shoulder, but as she got close, she suddenly stumbled backward, the scissors grazing her palm, drawing a few beads of blood. Biting her lip, she looked hurt. "Ashley, I was just trying to help."

What a performance. The guests glared at me. "Ashley’s still so rude, so rough." "Such a jealous girl, can't stand her cousin getting attention." "How can a child be so inherently bad?"

My parents' faces turned thunderous. Mom fussed over Chloe, fetching the first-aid kit. Dad slapped me across the face, his voice raging. "I thought you'd learned your lesson! You're still the same! How can you be so malicious? How could I have such a heartless daughter?"

This was their pattern. After Chloe's parents died in a car crash, she came to live with us. My parents changed. If Chloe's makeup was ruined, they locked me in the closet without a word, claiming they needed to curb my jealousy. If Chloe had a bruise, they’d tie me up and beat me, saying I needed to know what it felt like. Even if Chloe was just in a bad mood, they'd accuse me: "What did you do to upset your cousin again?"

Just like now, my dress was a high-end brand, meticulously inspected. There couldn't have been a loose thread. But they wouldn’t think, only blame me. In their minds, I was just bad. That's why, when Chloe suggested sending me to that new "special school," the one that promised to turn every unruly kid into an angel, they jumped at the chance. They didn’t know it was hell.

The first day, they stripped me naked and threw me in solitary. They fed me slop and tried to break me. Every time I talked back, they’d slap my mouth raw.

Dad's slap brought back the memory of my swollen lips, the ingrained terror making me collapse to my knees. I trembled, clinging to his fe...