"You lazy ass bitch! This house is a mess! You had one thing, ONE THING YOU HAD TO DO. God, no wonder your father killed himself! With a mistake like you around, it's a wonder he didn't do it sooner!" My mother's screams echoed down the hall.
I shrunk into the lumpy mattress in my tiny room, waiting for the horrible beating I was about to receive. This would be the perfect time for this mattress to just consume me.
I barely remembered my dad, but it wasn't like he cared about me either, as she said. Neglect to abuse. Something I had to accept. When he was alive, I was safe, but alone. I did things for myself. Now I do things for everyone else and get beat for it.
Her boyfriend, Michael, I was to call him Mr. Michael, sir, or Father to his face; otherwise I called him Michael, dumbass, or beater depending on who I was talking to), was coming closer. His footsteps were more profound, much louder than hers. I quickly rose to my feet and stood attentively like I was supposed to.
Suddenly the door was flung open and I caught sight of his furious face. His face was red and all scrunched up, his ears were practically steaming.
"You think you can get away with anything, don't you?" He said through his gritted teeth, almost calmly. His tone quickly changed as his face hardened again. "GET IN THAT FUCKING KITCHEN AND DO THE DISHES YOU UNGRATEFUL BITCH!"
I quickly scurried towards the door before he stopped me. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and positioned me to where I was directly in front of him and I could feel his hot, angry breath on my face. It stunk, and I tried to remain still and calm. He took the first blow to my face, yelling more things about how much of a mistake I am.
I'm beginning to think maybe he's right.
He kicked me in the stomach, causing me to double over, clutching my stomach. I was used to this kind of pain, but that still hurt. I collapsed onto the mattress, and he continued kicking at me and grabbing my hair, bending down to get his fists closer to my body.
Summer would come soon, which was fantastic. I was tired of hiding bruises from my peers, and since Mother and the jackass aren't always home, that gives me more freedom. When he leaves, I take my old phone out, scrolling to my messages. Tears spilling from my eyes as I think of all I've lost and all I deserve. All these bad things I deserve. I'm a terrible person.
I look at the icon for my friend, Sabrina. I texted her earlier trying to apologize, but she ignored me. I look away from the phone, resorting to staring at the wall, anxiety filling my chest, hopelessness filling my mind.
Getting a strange impulse, I quickly dial her number to text her, and send her a message or two.
Rina I'm really sorry about what happened in the lunchroom
I hope you understand that I can't afford to buy you lunch when u don't have money if I can't even buy my own...
Sent 5 minutes ago
Sabrina?
Hey, can you please just tell me if your mad?
Sent 30 minutes ago
rina?
Did you actually block me?
It was just a lunch girlie please don't hate me for that...
please hurry I'm freaking out right now
???
Sorry?
This isn't "Sabrina"
Who is this and how did you get my number?
Omg I am so sorry!!!
I didn't mean to bother you, blowing up your phone in the middle of something inportant...
???
It's fine
But how did you get my number?
Oh that
I don't exactly know
I thought I typed my friend's number... but I typed it really fast
I'm so sorry 😭
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Bombshell
FanfictionBrooklyn was raised more or less by her mom and step dad for most of her life after the death of her father. She also several secrets, hidden from the world. May it be the abuse she experiences more often than not, or her supernatural abilities giv...
