The next day Grace woke up the next day o the rotting floor boards of her barren room. Even with her head throbbing she managed to look around her room attempting to find a mirror, which was really just broken glass. She found a shard of glass to look at her deteriorating state and newly made battle scars. A black and blue bruise was plastered over her forehead with another on her cheek, being followed by more cuts all the way up her arms and legs neighboured by bruises.
A tear felt heavy on her eyelid before falling upon her cheek once again, then another and another. She hated the sight of herself, especially the scars made by her mother. Grace saw red. She hated her mother with such a passion that she wanted to kill her right there, right now. Grace wanted her mother to look into her blood red eyes and beg for her life. Beg until the tears drenched her shirt like Grace's had so many times before.
Grace threw the glass shard at the wall , making it shatter into more pieces. Once again she turned to the window to stare out, trying to forget her sorrows. Although, nobody could really forget when you have bleeding wounds from the night before, dragging you back to reality.
Grace however ignored her pain ,as much as possible, and watched as the 6 teenagers gathered at the corner of the street.
'It's like they know I'm trapped but never acknowledge me' she thought but her thoughts were obstructed by her door squeaking and the light tap of footsteps on the wooded floor. She started to tremble.
'Who is it this time?' She thought to herself knowing the only way to find out was to turn around.
Fear consumed Grace's body.
'What if it's father?' She shuddered at the thought of her father.
'Sister?' Called a small, fragile voice came from behind her.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl In The Window
Gizem / GerilimGrace has spent her life locked away in her house dreading the wrath of her mother and touch of her father using her window as an escape from her hell watching the 6 teenagers that gather at the end of the street everyday.
