The Girl In The Window

The Girl In The Window: Part 1

The ash blonde hair that had once cascaded past her shoulders was now falling down in clumps past her newly made scars. The girl's body had started to crumble under the stress and trauma. Although all the girl did was stare out of the tiny window in the corner of her claustrophobic room. She felt like the walls were closing in on her and her only escape was that window.

Her room was clam beige and barren apart from a pathetic bed which was real just a dirty rotten mattress and a moth-eaten, royal purple blanket and the girl hated it. The window was the only escape from that barren landscape and so the girl found herself staring out of it whenever she could.

'Grace!' a voice called from behind the flimsy, oak door.

Grace. Her name... It meant gracious but how could she be gracious with the cuts and scars that were painted across her olive skin. Her parents couldn't have picked a worse name for her.

'Grace!' The voice called again more violent than the last time. 

A single tear fell upon her defined cheek bone as she bit her rose pink bottom lip, so hard it began to bleed. She knew nothing good was behind that door so she had continued to stare out of the window. Putting was too much trust into that flimsy, oak door that was the only thing blocking her from hell.

Soon the oversized grey t-shirt, which used to be her fathers, was drenched with tears of fear and stress.

'Grace open the fucking door!' Shouted the voice with a loud bang from the door. But still she continued to stare out of the window. She stared at some teenagers gathering at the end of the road wishing she could be like them or at least be able to dress like them. she looked down at what she was wearing and tears began to fall past her cheeks at a faster rate. she wanted to get out of the dirty, tear-drenched grey t-shirt, the lacy, lavender underwear and black, leather collar she was wearing.

'Grace! I will break down the goddamn door!' Grace knew if she didn't open the door she would leave with more than just a bruise but who would open the door when you know it's certain death. She was paralysed with fear, she'd be an idiot if she wasn't. She took one final look at the teenagers gathering at the end of the street. How Grace had longed for something like that anything like that. 

Another three loud bangs filled the room and Grace had finally gathered up the courage to open the door. 

Her mother stood in the door way, her dirty blonde hair pulled back into a neat bun, her thin eyebrows arched into a frown, her ocean blue eyes stared straight into her daughter's blood red eyes with pure hatred. 

She was dressed in a black suit and a white blouse clearly expensive with a 24 caret diamond necklace around her neck. She was absolutely stunning.

After seeing her mother's hatred towards her Grace had once again became paralysed with fear. All of a sudden, her mother had pushed her backwards onto the mattress. Her hands grasped around Grace's throat making her gasp for air. She then began punching her over and over with as much force as she could muster making Grace scream and cry out for help but she already knew nobody would come.

Her mother pulled a small mirror out of her pocket and hit her daughter over the head with it until she blacked out.