Beep Beep Beep. The clock hit 06:00 signalling the start of a new day.
The young girls eyes slowly fluttered awake as consciousness steadily returns to her weary body revealing the dimly lit surroundings of her small, cluttered room. Heaviness took over like a thick blanket weighted on isadora's limbs, a throbbing sensation clouded her restless mind with a dull ache.
A stark reminder of the previous night; with cold shaking hands she hesitantly reached up to touch her marked cheek wincing slightly as her fingers grazed the tender flesh with feather like touch. Memories flooded her thoughts of the night prior filled with the pain she not so long ago faced, the screaming , the crying, everything. 'Another morning another day in hell' those words took home in the back of her mind everything was the same a never ending cycle. A pang of dread settled in her stomach , today was the first day of her final year in college and she wasn't looking forward to the crowded classrooms and overwhelming hallways.
The thought of another year in an environment she struggled to escape was enough to dampen her mood , but the realisation of the events prior were the icing on the cake ; the dull ache settling in her limbs a constant reminder of the abuse she suffers from the one who gave her life the one who was supposed to love her , care for her and help her walk through the world , instead she's the one isadora feared the most the one whose marks she wore every day. As every fibre of her being yearns for the sweet release of rest her mind is stuck on the facade she had to maintain , the one of the sweet girl who smiles and laughs and never does anything she isn't supposed to. Because that's how she's seen by everyone. A porcelain doll. Everyone but her mother that is. The woman who resented her from birth.
The lack of rest evident on her pale skin lacking its usual rosy glow, with a deep breath Isa pushed herself up and out of bed , the morning sunshine filtered through the cracked baby pink curtains mocking her internal struggles; despite the pain that plagued her she forces on a smile hiding the scars of her mothers rage behind a facade of normalcy the thought of seeing her one true friend today after weeks of being away from each other brought a spark of excitement a fuzzy feeling wondering what this new year would bring them , the new adventures they would face by each others side.
Isadora slowly made her way to the bathroom , avoiding the creaking floorboards that would give her presence away the sound of her own breath and the rustle of fabric seemed to echo loudly in her ears a constant reminder of the precariousness of her situation. Every step was calculated and deliberate , her body moving in a rhythm that seemed to mock the very quiet she was trying to achieve the weight of all her struggles hung in the air like a heavy vail , making every moment a tightrope act of balance and precision. As she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the cracked mirror , her heart sank. Bruises and fresh cuts marked her tender skin , silently screaming the truth she had so desperately concealed.
Taking a deep breath she splashed some cold water on her face hoping to wash away both the physical and emotional torment . Slowly gazing at her weary reflection, she steeled herself for another day in this never- ending cycle of pain, fear and silent resilience.
Going about her morning routine Isadora quickly rummaged through her dresser fishing out clothes she hoped would hide the marks covering her skin ; with that she slips on a loose-fitting cotton sweater pink in colour with a soft scent of strawberries going along with high knee socks with little pink bows and a skirt coming mid section of her thighs parring it with some black ankle boots the material providing a sense of comfort, a shield against the world.
While brushing her hands through her messy light hair a pang of sadness tugged at her heart the memories of happier days swirls in her mind.....but those days seemed like a lifetime ago, replaced by the harsh reality of her current situation. Once making sure everything was in its rightful place and her make up was flawless Isadora moves through the cramped house with precise ease, her foot falls soft and near silent on the creaking floorboards her heart fluttered with excitement as she reached the bottom step.
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Ms winters
FanfictionIsadora Collins is an 18 year old student ready to start her last year as a senior, with a troubled past and a mother who makes her life miserable, she is kind and loving gentle despise her home life who always has a smile on her face , what would h...
