You -Harringrove-

0.1

I slouched my back against the nearest wall and wailed sharply. My discarded blood roamed the tiles, filling in the cracks.

My big question is, why me? Why do I have to toughen up? I didn't do anything wrong, right?

"I didn't raise no crybaby!" My dad leaned towards me specifically barking at my face.

This is what a demon is. A horrendous enemy who despises every action you take.

I clutched onto my clothed rib and tried to catch my breath. He, my dad, decided to leave the kitchen, where I was, before chuckling evilly.

I was aware of my surroundings, I perched before collapsing onto the blooded tiles again. I heard the front door shut, my father already left, maybe to go out and drink.

My dirty blonde curls bounced as I tried to move.

I groaned as everything multiplied. I was too dizzy and weak to cry out for help.

It's not like I've never experienced this hurtful scene before. I wish I died, I'm already hopeless and miserable, so kill me. Kill me with a knife, bat or gun, I don't care! I want to die.. But at the same time I want to be there for my loved ones. I'm just scared. I miss my actual mum.. I miss how she comforted me through hard times. She left me nine years ago, leaving me with a bastard of a dad. My dad never cared about my mother. Every time he looks at me I remind him of my mother. My ocean eyes, my dirty blonde curls. My dad hates my curly mullet, my un- noticeable mullet. I took the role of the bully in school. I'm trying to change but it's difficult having no one to talk to, I do have my step-mother Susan but I doubt that she wouldn't tell my dad. Let me introduce you to everything I know. My dad is a black-hearted man, his brown hair along with his moustache is what stood out the most in appearance. He was never kind, generous and will never be. I have a step-mother Susan that I don't want to replace her as my favourite mother. Her fancy ginger hair, slim bangs is what stands out the most. She's genial, caring but I tend to ignore her sometimes. I actually have a step-sister, max, her ocean eyes, ginger hair and freckles. She dislikes dresses, she'd rather be comfortable than stylish. She's sometimes rough with me, she's been helpful though. She was in her young teens while I was almost officially an adult.

My eyes drugged closed and I eventually blacked out.

I awoke feeling tense and sudden panic. A man dressed in a nurse's outfit turned his head to face me. "Ah you have finally awoken. We ran some tests and it seems like you're okay." I gazed around the room until I sat up "who brought me here?.." My voice trembled quietly. "Actually, a girl-your sister saw you and immediately called on us. But you are injured darn good, don't think about making your injuries worse." I nodded softly while looking down at myself.

Long red marks scattered across my chest along with dim purple circles. It felt like hell. It hurts as bad as getting stabbed vigorously right where your heart is.

"When am I going to leave this hospital?" I asked curiously. His sharp eyes fixed his gaze upon me before answering.

"Once we get you all medicated and gauzed, don't worry we'll start right away. It should take less than twenty minutes, after all, the injuries do look quite painful" he founded. "Any more questions?" He grinned warmly.

"I-i um. When will my scars recover?" I couldn't hold eye contact, just a bit nervous that's all.

"Well" he began "a couple of weeks or so."

I felt stings travelling throughout my body as I memorised what had happened to me before. The words, the blood, the thoughts. I begin to feel hot tears inside my bottom eyelid but I was able to hold it in.

"Uhm-" I agonizingly stuttered. "Hey, hey, you alright?" I wanted to let it all out but I was able to suck up and ask "is-did anyone come?" The doctor sighed like he saw the pain in my watery eyes. "Only your sister, she stayed for a few minutes before leaving but it seems like you both bond well."

"Welp, we should get started on you"