Henrietta had always known that even though her parent’s acted like they loved her in front of the other broken families in South Park, that deep down inside their very being that she was still that mistake they couldn’t get rid of within time limit it was legal. She knew that her parents had planned on having a child, that she was a result of a drunken one-nighter between two people who never thought they’d see each other again. In result of unprotected sex and lack of money for an abortion at the time Henrietta was concieved and nine months later born forcing her soon to be parents to marry. It would have taken someone like the other occupants of South Park not to see their indifference from their daughter as she grew into the gloomy personality she was, she felt the distance between them but never really thought much of it until fourth grade.

It was a couple weeks after she returned from that bullsh*t reform camp she had learned to deal with her father's growing rage and her mother's uncaring nature. It was mere words in the beginning, nothing too horrid that she couldn't stand, but the true physical abuse of her being began after her father had lost his job. He had more than likely sought out something to numb the pain of his failure before returning home, but I guess even alcohol could not drown the failure boiling underneath his skin for it only took merely four words "What's your f***ing problem?" As he stumbled in for him to drive his fist into her mouth with such force that it sent a tooth flying across the floor, blood flooded her mouth threatening to drown her as he continued his assault, his fist making contact with whatever bit of flesh her body offered until his anger died down to a simmer. He left her there aching in a small pool of her own blood before walking past her mother to go to sleep in their bedroom, her mother hadn't seemed to truly care as she cleaned up the evidence from the floor and moved Henrietta to her room to drop her on her bed. She remembers her mother sitting down beside her with a mocking pout on her aging face, " Now dear you father didn't mean it, but we did tell some changes would be made when you returned." A smile crept upon her mother's face as she dabbed a rag against henrietta's face before she stepped away to leave the room, " I'll wake you up in the morning dear to see the progress of those bruise.."
Don’t say I NEVER gave you anything

She had learned from a young age how to cover the evidence of the wilting flowers that bruised her skin in large bouquet, the beating continued through her father's dry spell of work and into his new employment, she was his stress relief and made him feel more in control than he truly was, she kept most of it from her friends because who needed to know about the bullsh*t that went on in her own home or when she had made the dumb mistake of trying to play house with one of those VampKids.. The beatings were nothing compared to having her very being violated, she covered more than bruises with makeup.. She covered the touch of his uninvited hands upon her skin in fear that they left glowing imprints for all to see.. She'd never get the closure she needed, but it was South park.. No one ever did