Not who you think

5

The door slams open, the sound of the large impact echoes throughout my room.

I jump out of fright, unable to move, my eyes pinned on my father's furious face while the one of mine goes utterly pale.

,, What was that? ",, You alright Bellz?" - I hear through my headphones.

,, How many times do I have to tell you to stop making this fucking house such a mess you dirty pig?! HOW MANY?!" he yells, smashing the door with his fist, causing me to flinch again.

I subconsciously back away with my chair, when I hit my keyboard.

A sudden realisation comes to my mind. Oh crap, I'm still UNMUTED!

I quickly turn around, and Ignoring my panicking friends' worried questions, I manage to disconnect from the call just in the right moment.

He makes his way to me, not wasting any more seconds. Grabbing me by my hoodie, he lifts me up from the table. I gasp at the sudden act.

,, I will make you PAY for it!" he hissed and threw my body on the ground like some rag.

The second my body collides with the floor, I feel this weird pressure in my chest.

Panic fills me as I start choking, desperately gasping for air, unable to get any.

Shit, I can't breathe!

I roll over to my side, fiercely pressing on my chest.

Tears appear in my eyes as the sounds of my coughing fills the room.

,, Stop showing off you stupid Bitch! "

Sharp, excruciating sensations run through my body as he starts kicking me everywhere he can reach, my stomach "winning".

I start shaking in pain and fear of what he is going to do next.

You may think that when someone goes through this regularly, they get used to it, but no. Even though my pain threshold went highly up, it still hurts like hell.

Luckily, soon enough he has had his fun and stops. At least with the kicking.

Squatting, he pulls my face closer to his so that I can see right into his sadistic eyes, filled with Hatred and scornfulness. The eyes that are always making me feel so inferior.

His hair is greasy and shaggy, his clothes dirty and ragged. Pure wrath can be seen on his face, but that's not what makes him this horrific. It's the fact that 2 years ago, he was the complete opposite of what he is now. 2 years ago, he still LOVED me.

I instinctively look away, trying to avoid looking into his face.

I can smell the alcohol scent from him and it makes me want to puke. I can't stand the odor anymore, as it's everywhere around our house.

Looking at him, you can clearly see that he is an absolute mess.

,, Look at me you fucking waste of space!" he growls and I obey. Not that I really want to, but I know what would happen if I didn't.

,, You are such a failure! A pathetic disappointment! I wish I didn't have you, you wretch!" he whispers, stabbing his ominous gaze right through my soul.

My eyes overflow with tears as I start sobbing uncontrollably. I don't care how many times he beats me up. But his words, those words that are coming from the mouth of the ONE person that should PROTECT me, they will always, ALWAYS be the thing that hurts me the most.

,, Shut up! "squalling, he slaps me with a force strong enough to cripple me.

Falling to the ground once again, I hit my head, yelping in pain.

My whole vision fills up with white dots, blurring everything around. The static in my ears deafens me, making my Fast heartbeat the only thing sounding in my head. I feel my skull pulsating with pain.

I hear my father muttering something as he heads to the door right before everything goes dark and I lose consciousness.

...

3rd person POV:
,, What the fuck was THAT?? "the streamer girl asks her equally scared fellow.

,, I... Don't know." a voice responds silently, almost inaudibly.

It has now been almost 10 minutes since their friend hung up on them Under such strange conditions. It has left them paralysed, forgetting they are even live.

They knew her parents had been arguing a lot, as they heard them frequently in the Background, but as soon as they tried to mention it, she would brush their questions off right away, quickly changing the subject. They didn't think much of it, as she was always so happy and cheerful. No one has ever considered the possibility of her faking it. NO ONE.

The blonde boy grabs his phone, unlocking it instantly. With one click he opens their chat and starts typing like crazy, asking if she is alright, calling her even. VAIN.

,, D-do you think she is okay? "he asks, his tone of voice clearly indicating how worried he is.

The thing is, he is NEVER worried.

At the sound of his voice, SneaX breaks from her trance like state, yet her mind still overflowed with questions and tragic scenarios that could have happened.

,, I hope so..."

Staring blankly at her screen, noticing the chat going off like crazy, she suddenly remembers. She is LIVE.

,, Oh God, no..." she mumbles Under her breath, internally panicking.

,, WHAT?? "resounds form the other side an eager voice.

,, We are... Live..."

SneaX looks at her second monitor in an attempt to read some of the chat messages, unavailingly. Message after message, the chat rolls down every hundreth of a second, making it unable to be read.

She manages to catch a few words from this and that message.

,, 911. "
,, Help her! "
,, Is she okay? "
,, Bellz! "
,, Is this a prank? "
,, Troll. "
,, Oh God! "

,, Guys, I think we should wrap it up now. We will get in touch with you as soon as Bellz responds. Don't worry, it must've been a misunderstanding of some kind, she is probably watching this and Laughing about it right now." Mystic speaks up in an audibly fake confident tone.

,, Yeah! We will see you tomorrow! Bye everyone..."

Clicking the mouse, she turns her stream off.

She hears a sigh coming from her headphones.,, What could have happened? "

,, I don't know. I'm calling her. "

'Hey, it's Isabella! I can't Pick up my phone right now, so please leave your message here and I will call you back asap! Beep! "

,, Bellz are you alright?? What happened?? Please call me back!"

...

3 hours passed while they'd been waiting for her to respond, calling her every few minutes, though it was pointless.

Their hopes were shrinking, while the anxiety was rising with every second.

Their call was silent. None of them was able to, let alone, wanted to speak. They were too consumed by their own thoughts and theories.

After another half an hour, they gave up, ending the call.