Chapter One~ Hurting
The distant sound of rough footsteps began approaching in my direction. The cardboard boxes of when we just moved here laid on the wooden floorboards minding its own business. This was it, this was my place for now just until he gets out of his horrid rage. But all of a sudden as I just open my eyes the vehement noise of the boxes collapsed. He found me.
Whimpering and shivering from his scary existence and the window being open letting the icy cold wind seep through the window. I brought my hands to my face blocking and using this as my saviour and my protection.
'Don't hurt me.' I whimper as the shriek of fear overcomes me. The expression on his face turned to a quick smirk. He laughs evilly as he grabbed the bottle of alcohol that he consumed and aiming it right at me. Just as he was about to snag the bottle on my head. He takes a look at it mid way through the air and shakes the bottle.
'Ah there's still more left. I'll d-drink this all then I'll get to you.' He slurred his words as his legs started to wobble but he gripped onto my hair to stable himself. I wince in pain as the pain shot through my scalp as it felt like his whole weight was on the top of my head.
He consumed the rest of the bottle in less than a moment I could blink my eyes. Rather less I knew I was going to get badly hurt by this once again. I was used to my father acting this horrid lifestyle and involving me into it.
I was used to it but it didn't mean I like it.
Whimpers escaped my chapped lips and I I felt a cold sharp shiver run down my spine. The glass got thrown to my back while I turn my back out the window. The sharp intense pain pierced my skin causing me to yelp in pain.
What was the point of my father treating me and venting out his anger on me. I didn't deserve it. But my mother was the reason why it resulted in all of this.
The blame was thrown at me once she died. People look to me in disgust when I turn the hall way, the teachers couldn't even look at me in the eye when I call for help as other adolescent continually torment me and corner me. I guess I deserve it.
Placing my shaking hands on my back the pain shot through once again this time it was enticing. It was like I liked the feeling of it the feeling of being hurt since I was used to it.
'How does that feel? Just like how your mother died.' He questions as he grabbed the shattered glass on the floor and threw it at me as it was like confetti and a time for celebration.
Tears were falling out already. I couldn't reply to his comment. It was already hurting not the pain from the glass but the pain of how my own father could treat me so horridly to the extent of my enjoying this pain and get use to the daily routine.
My sobs were hysterical and overwhelming to hear. Breathing out heavily and torturously it was like my lungs were lunging for more oxygen to enter but my lungs felt like it couldn't handle it anymore.
The heavy footsteps began drifting away as I shut my eyes tightly and painfully ask felt my eyeballs pop all the way back to the back of my eye socket.
I could tell my father was angry he always end up raging his anger towards me. I was a punching bag for him and he wouldn't care to see if I was alright.
By the time I opened my eyes the room was painfully dark and the eerie atmosphere soaked into my mind. The lighting was all out and I could hear his snoring from his bedroom. He was asleep but I couldn't leave this place, I had no where to go. So the thought of me leaving was nearly impossible.
I lay on the cold hard floorboards painfully bleeding from the harm done by him and the exhaustion hit me hard. I was knocked out and slept on the floor cold and empty. Shivering with my teeth chattering against each other, creating such a loud noise that screeched even my own ears, I slowly curl up in a ball and hug my legs closely with my body.
'Get up and get out of here.' I woke up hastily to the sound of his voice that was out for vengeance. 'At least I can get 6 hours without your extricating presence.' He spoke once again as I hear his daily alcoholic liquid being scorched down his throat as he gulps down loudly.
Rubbing my puffy eyes harshly until I felt a boring sensation happening on top of my eye lid. I got to the bathroom and faced the mirror, the sleek mirrored glass with a reflection of a girl. Puffy eyes, messy blonde hair and the dry blood stained on the cotton clothing.
She was me and I was horrified by what she looked like. I was scared of her.
Of what she became.
Walking in the icy cold wind of winter I walk fast and avoided any eye contact with other students I passed by as I looked as I was in a rush.
They knew who I was, they knew what I was capable of. But they weren't scared they detested me and saw me as a creature that deserved to be punished.
I enter the rustic old 70s building the bricks collided with each other. Showing off its lack of design and construction.
