Annabelle’s POV:
I awoke the next morning feeling quite happy; I skipped to the bathroom to take a shower. I let the cool water hit my body; the events of yesterday flooded through my mind I found myself smiling like an idiot at the thoughts. I got out of the shower and stared at my body in the full length mirror. I was hideous. I had scars all over my stomach and back. A few bruises on my upper thighs, all because of my father, he ruined me. A few tears ran down my face as I remembered the first time he hit me.
//--Flashback--\\
I had just gotten home from school; my mom’s death had died down over the past few years.
“Dad?” I called loudly
I entered the living room to see my father drinking; he was surrounded by empty bottles of beer.
“Dad, can you make Mac and Cheese just like mom used to?” I asked trying to be sweet, I loved Mac and Cheese my mom’s was my favorite she made it for me every Wednesday.
My father stood up quickly swaying over to me. His eyes were red and looked full of anger.
“What did you just say?” He yelled angrily
“I-I just wanted Mac and Cheese…just li-like mommy used to” I stuttered stepping back, my father had never yelled at me even when I got in trouble he calmly spoke to me, but this person, I didn’t recognize he wasn’t my father. The one who laughed and played with me, the one who would hug me when I was sad, this was a completely different person.
I was stunned when I felt his hand impact on my left cheek, leaving a burning sensation. I instinctively held my cheek in my hand tears brimming me eyes. I stepped farther away, running up to my room. I sobbed in the corner my arms hugging my legs closer to me; I held the picture of my mom.
“Mommy, I miss you” I whispered to the picture
//-- end of flashback -- \\
I shook the feeling away, remembering I had to get ready. I put on a floral dress; it flowed down right above my knee and a black belt around my waist. I walked in my room and did my make-up, curled my hair slightly and was ready to go. I looked at the time, still an hour to go. I sighed; maybe I was a little too excited for this ‘date’. I mean, I bet he’ll get bored of me; I’ve never really had any friend’s thanks to my father. I’ve been a social outcast.
I walked out into the living room, on the small coffee table I spotted a small box sitting with a note attached to it. I quickly went over to pick it, that’s funny how did anyone get in here? I don’t remember leaving any of the doors unlocked, or anyone putting it there, who could this, be from? I slowly opened the box, it revealed a locket. It was antique looking; an oval shape and beautiful carvings decorated its exterior. I opened it and saw a picture of my mom hugging me, I was a little girl and we were outside, I remember this picture, I also remember my dad burning all the pictures of my mom, all except the one I had in the frame that was now on the night stand next to my bed. I was confused but grateful who could have sent this? I picked up the note reading it.
‘Dear Annabelle,
Here’s a little something to help you stay strong; don’t lock people of out your world. Let someone in, it will do you good. Enjoy the little things with someone don’t be afraid to try something new and most importantly don’t let the day’s end with hurt and regret.
- Your protector’
That’s what the entire letter said. Who was this protector and why was he/she so nice to me? Why didn’t they show up before, why now?
