Midnight High

9

This fan fiction contains sexual actions, death, drugs, homophobia, mental Illness, and a foul use of language.
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"Dad! Please! Get off of me please, please, please!" I scream out, getting hit in the face over and over again. Heavy, hard, drunk, punches. My face stings and I feel my nose crack and start to bleed. I can't protect myself. My dad is on top of me, the smell of alcohol seeping out from his slobbering mouth as he hits my small 16 year old body. I gasp for air and I try to move my arms, but there was no resistance.

"Please... please dad..." I sob and he stops. He gets up off of me and walks away, picking up a bottle of vodka sitting on top of the table in our living room. His back is turned to me as he takes a drink. I sit up, my ribs aching in my body while i struggle and shake as I stand up on my feet.

"You know..." his voice slurs as he takes another sip.

"Maybe I should just kill your mother and get this over with already."
Something snaps. Something in my head switches when I hear those words leave his disgusting mouth. My tears stop flowing and my heart stops racing. My eyes fixated on his back.

"You're just a no-good, pussy of a father. Is that why you hit me? Because you're a pussy?... because you're weak?" I say with a monotone voice. My body is no longer shaking, and my mind is blank. I take a step towards him, his back still turned to me. He throws the bottle to the ground and he balls his fists as he turns around to look at me. His face is twisted with anger and his chest heaves up and down as his breath quickens. He walks over to me and raises his fist. It swings towards my face, but it stops. I look at his face and his eyes lock on to mine as blood starts to run out of his mouth, replacing the saliva that was there originally.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you! You little shit!" He screams in my face with all of his chest, pushing me up against the wall. I take out the knife in his stomach and slam it through his neck as his hands grip tightly around mine. A guttural noise comes from his mouth.

"Get off of me!" I scream at him. I push him to the ground, stabbing him over and over again, his blood painting my slim pale hands and his white shirt stained with the copper smelling liquid. I stop when I hear a gasp. I look up threw my swollen, bruised, eyes and see my mother standing there with her hands over her mouth. I look back down and realize what happened. I drop the pocket knife and it makes  a clinking sound on the wooden floor as I crawl back up against the wall.

"Y/n... what did you... what did you do?" She stumbles over to me as I curl up in a ball.

"He was hurting me..." I say quietly looking over at her. She falls to the floor next to me and starts sobbing.

"Baby... I'm so sorry... I tried to protect you, I really did!" She grabs me and holds me tightly, her body shaking as she sobs into my blood stained shirt. I start crying again. I start feeling all my emotions bubble up into my chest and I let out a scream, a painful, guttural, scream.
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I shoot upwards from the floor and gasp, taking a second to realize that I was safe and it was just a dream. I wipe the single tear falling down my cheek off my face and stand up. I look at the rest of the room and see my friends sleeping peacefully without worry. I walk out of the room and go to the bathroom, making sure to lock it before I slide down the bathroom wall, hyperventilating.

"I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to..." I mutter to myself quietly. I start pulling at my hair and shut my eyes tight to stop the horrible thoughts raging in my head. I take a deep breath and stand up, my head aching from the thoughts. I look at myself in the mirror, my hair was messy, my cheeks were wet and cold. My eyes were red and swollen from crying. I turn the water faucet to the sink and splash my face with cold water.