Just Breathe Mi Amore

Ch. 1

*trigger warning: physical and verbal abuse*

     I am startled awake from my father hollering for me to come downstairs. Rolling onto my back, my hand covers my heart as I try to calm my heart rate down. So much for sleeping in on a Sunday. I close my eyes and try to finish where my dream ended.
     "Paisley Lienna Brooks I will not ask again!"
     Sighing, my eyes snap open and I get out from under the warmth of my blanket. My feet land softly on the cold hardwood floor. I should really invest in a rug, but I don't want something else to clean. I walk to my door and before I open it I take my pink silk robe off it's hooks. I slip it on to cover my tank top and pajama short. After tying the strings around my waist, I open the door to face another day.
     I take my time going down the staircase. I've fallen too many times going down and up. I will never understand the people who walk up stairs skipping every other step and not even holding on to a railing, I could never.
     At the end of the stairs, you can see both the living room and kitchen. The living room is to the right and the kitchen to the left. My father is sitting on the couch, so I head into the living room and take a seat on the opposite end. The leather couch sends goosebumps down my legs.
     "Took you long enough," my father grumbles. I internally roll my eyes. I am trying to avoid having one of those mornings.
      "I'm sorry, Father."
      He just grunts in response and continues watching the tv. I keep my posture straight and try to make myself as small as possible. God forbid I get too comfortable. My Father looks at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
      "Cook me some eggs. With pepper and cheese," my Father orders. I nod and get up from the couch. I barley make it past him before he pulls on my robe yanking me towards him.
       "And it better be made right," my Father threatens. I nod again in response. He lets me go and I scurry off into the kitchen.
       The kitchen could use some up-keeping. The white tiles on the floor are peeling and the yellow backsplash on the wall is starting to crack. It makes due I guess.
       Once, the eggs are fully cooked, I scoop them onto a plate. I sprinkle extra cheese and pepper on top. Just how he likes it. I head back into the living room and hand him his plate.
      "You forgot a fork dumbass."
       I flinch at his comment. Realizing he wasn't gonna punish me, I rush off to get him a fork. Once he has a fork he takes a bite. He sets the fork and plate down while he chews. Once he swallows, he looks up at me with the most menacing glare.
      My father stands up from the couch and starts walking towards me. Every part of me wants to move or back away, but he has taught me not too. It'll only make things worse for me.
       "I didn't want pepper on my eggs," my father says slowly in a dark tone. I cower as he stands above me. He literally told me to put pepper and cheese in the eggs, but now I realize he wanted to start something this morning.
       "I am sorry, Father," I whisper as I look at my feet. Suddenly, it feels like I'm flying across the room until my back hits the wall and I fall onto the floor. My Father walks until he is standing over me. He picks me up by my neck and pushes me into the wall.
       "You worthless bitch," he spits in my face. Pain erupts in my stomach as he uses his other hand to punch my side. I feel all the blood rushing to my head as his grip around my neck tightens. He lets go of me and I make hard contact to the floor. He begins to start kicking me in ribs.
        "I said I was sorry," I cough out before the heal of his foot smashes into my head and I loose consciousness.

***

     A groan escapes my lips as I become more aware of my surroundings. My hand comes up to my eyes and I rub the sleep away. I crack my eyes open, but shut them immediately for the sun is bleeding through the window in the living right in my direction.
     I go to roll on my left side to get up, but immediately wince in pain. I roll on to my right side instead and use all of my energy to get myself on my feet. I stumble to the kitchen to get an ice pack.
     I open the freezer and look for the blue gel ice pack, but it's not where to be found. That bastard probably got rid of it. I grab a pack of frozen vegetables instead and limp my way to the stairs.
     Instead of even trying to go up then normally, I crawl up them. After ten minutes, I reach the top. I crawl to my door and push it open. Once I get to my bed, I throw the vegetables up and then work on pulling myself up.
      Looks like I'll be on bed rest the rest of the day. Thankfully, my Father probably won't be back until sometime tomorrow night. This should be enough time to heal, so when I go to school tomorrow I can walk like a normal person. I've made it three and half years without any high school teachers noticing, I sure can finish this semester before I graduate.
      I place the ice vegetables on top of my ribs and pull up a YouTube video on my phone. The soft audio slowly luring me to sleep. Before I lose myself in a dreamless state, I start to think about how I have to find away to get out of this hellhole.