My life

The Girl No One Wanted

It was about a week before my seventeenth birthday.

We hadn't celebrated my birthday since I was around eight, but I didn't really mind. I never liked being the center of attention anyway. My younger sister's birthday was coming up in just a few days. She was turning seven, and my parents wanted everything to be perfect for her.

The house had to be spotless.
The car had to be clean.
Her bedroom had to look perfect.

And it was my job to make sure it all happened.

I woke up around 3:45 in the morning to loud crashing sounds downstairs. The noise echoed through the house, making my stomach drop. I knew exactly what it meant.

I quickly got out of bed and started getting dressed, moving as fast as I could. My hands shook while I pulled on my clothes. I just needed to be ready before he came upstairs.

He liked to come early, before everyone else woke up.

That was when he gave me my daily beating.

There was always some reason. Some excuse. None of them ever made sense, but that never mattered.

I heard his heavy footsteps moving through the house. Then the stairs creaked as he started coming up. My heart began pounding harder with every step he took.

I knew he was coming for me.

By the time he reached my door, I was already fully dressed, standing near the side of the room.

The door burst open.

He stormed inside, already yelling about something. I couldn't even keep track of what it was anymore. Something about cleaning, about the house not being ready, about my sister's birthday coming up.

Then his hand struck my face.

The force knocked me to the floor before I could even react. Pain exploded across my cheek, and my head spun. I barely had time to catch my breath before the kicking started.

His foot slammed into my ribs again and again.

Each hit sent sharp pain through my body, but I stayed curled on the floor, trying to protect myself as much as I could.

While he kicked me, he kept talking.

Telling me how dirty I was.
How ugly I was.
How worthless I was.

He said no one would ever want me.

That I would always be alone.

That I was too "used" for anyone to ever care about me.

After hearing those words for so many years, they didn't even shock me anymore.

I believed them.

Eventually he got tired.

He stepped back, breathing heavily, and looked down at me like I was something disgusting on the floor.

"Clean yourself up," he snapped. "Then get to the kitchen."

I slowly pushed myself up, my ribs aching with every movement.

"Breakfast needs to be made," he continued. "We've got a big day ahead of us."

Then he turned and walked out of my room like nothing had happened.

I stayed there for a moment, trying to steady my breathing before forcing myself to stand.

Strangely, there was a small feeling of excitement inside me.

Even though my family hated me... even though they treated me like I didn't matter...

They were letting me go with them today.

We were going to the boardwalk to celebrate my little sister's birthday. Some of my parents' friends were coming too.

And for once, I wouldn't be left behind at home.

Even if I was only there to work...
Even if no one really wanted me there...

At least I would get to leave the house.