Abused and Unwanted

Chapter 3

Mike pulled up in a gray Chevy 4-door truck. Carrie helped me into the backseat and got herself into the passenger seat. Mike looked at me from the driver's seat. "Hey, I'm Mike." He said and smilied.

"I'm Grace." I said. All of a sudden I was really nervous. I didn't want them to seeall the bruises on my face and arms so I looked down at Zack.

"So Grace," Mike started. "Was that man your father?" I nodded slowly. "Well, I had a...small fight with him and he ran before I could call the police. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." I said and breathed a sigh of relief. As much as I hated my dad adn all the terrible things he does to me, he is my dad, he gave me life. I should be thankful for him. Even though most of the time I spent with him was painful, we had our good, fun times, too.

"So we are going to go back to our house," Mike started, snapping me out of my thoughts. "And we will figure out what to do. You could stay with us for a night or two, we could drive you back home, or we could go to the policce station right away. It's up to you, but I don't think we should take you back home."

I nodded. I was exhausted because I had spent the whole day running. I leaned my head back against the window and closed my eyes. The enext thing I knew, Carrie was shaking me awake. "Hey Grace," She whispered. "We're here." I let Carrie help me down from the tuck and guide me inside.

I realized we were in full light, they could see all the bruises now. I adjusted Zack so he was covering the majority of the ones on my arm and looked at the ground again.

"Do you want me to hold Zack so you an go to the bathroom and freshen up?" Carrie said reaching for the baby. Out of instinct, I turned and shielded my baby brother from her. :"I'm not going to hurt him, I promise." Slowly, I reached over and handed Zack to her. "The bathroom is right over there." She said pointing at a room down the hall.

I slowly made my way over there and shut the door behind me. I turned the light on and looked in the mirror. My reflection scared me. I haven't looked this bad since my dad thought I stole his cigarettes. I had two black eyes, a bloody, bruised nose, a cut across my forehead, and other, smaller bruises around my face and neck.