'BROKEN'
(of a person) having giving up all hope; despairing
TAYLOR was a loner, a nobody, ever since the death of her mother she had been that way. people didn't shut her out, she shut them out.she never let anyone closer to her for the fact of bei...
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TW- there will be mentions of abuse in this chapter.
SHE HUGGED HER JACKET CLOSER to herself as she walked home, the sun seemed to be stuck behind a cloud because even though it was really bright it was absolutely freezing. she was glad she had chosen to wear a jacket as if she had gone with her initial thoughts - of wearing a strap t-shirt and no jacket- she would have defiantly developed hypothermia.
her house was nothing special, it was a two story semi-detached house, to you it would look and feel like a house, to her it was her worst nightmare. she knew her dad was at the bar as it was about five o'clock witch was when he would leave the house.
she would have about four hours of watching TV till her dad got home, so as soon as she got in she was straight to the tv set watching what ever it was that was on. she loved the time she spent by herself- witch was most of the time-.
after about an hour of watching the television, she decided to get started on her massive stack of homework she had been given that day. she started of with her chemistry home work and ended with maths.
she checked the time and saw that it was seven, so she decided to make her dinner.it wasn't fancy but for a fifteen year old she did cook an alright meal.the closer the time got to eight o'clock, the more scared taylor became. her hands were sweaty, and the pencil that she held in her hand constantly slipped out of her grasp.
it was eight thirty when her father finally came stopping through the door, obviously drunk. he growled when he saw her." should you be in bed" he said walking into the kitchen.
"no it's only eight thirty"she replied her voice quivering. her fathers hand balled into a fist his eyes filled with rage. it amazed taylor at how much that statement rilled him up.
"you, you little brat will listen to me, go upstairs to bed" she wanted to shout tell him that he wasn't the boss of her but she held her tongue, standing up to him wasn't worth the beating she would get if she did.
she quickly grabbed her sketch book and ran upstairs and too her room, she had no intention of going to bed but her being in her room would make her father believe she had obeyed. she continued to draw she only realised what she was drawing at that moment. she had drawn a wolf. her favourite animal. but of course there hadn't been a wolf in california for about fifty years so her dream of spotting one in beacon hills preserve was unlikely to happen.
she decided at ten o'clock to actually go to bed as she did have school. just before she was about to slide into her quilt her father burst through the door. "you ignorant, pest, i told you to go to bed two hours ago"
he slapped her, "you deserve to be punished" he through her body to the floor, and gave a kick to the stomach, he then took ahold of her neck and lifted her up.
"when i tell you to go to bed you do it, do you hear me" he shouted, she nodded. "i want a verbal answer, DO YOU HEAR ME"
"yes"she she whispered back, her voice was scratchy and hours from crying."good"
he threw her to the floor and walked out of her room. taylor curled into a ball on the floor, she was to sore to move so she decided to sleep on the floor. the only sound as she fell asleep was her whimpers of pain. she could tell bruises were already forming on her body.
she wished she could stand up to him, tell him that she didn't deserve to be hit, she wished she could physically fight back, show him how strong she was. but she couldn't she was weak, and she hated that but she accepted it, she knew she never would be able to fight back.
she found it hard to sleep that night she would constantly press on a bruise and it would wake her up. it was about three a.m when she gave up trying and decided to do the one thing that calmed her down, drawing.
she sat on her bed, she was careful not to hit any new bruises and began to draw again, she knew her father was probably in bed or back out drinking so she wouldn't get caught. she was drawing absentmindedly and she seemed to forget all her worries. so when her eyes started to droop, and her body craved sleep her bruises didn't effect her.
she smiled as she drifted of into a peaceful sleep, she did;t dream and she was happy about that because she never did dream she always had night mares. so for once she had about a four hour sleep.
