I'm Not Normal.

Chapter Three: Worst Abuse Yet.

"NO!" I shrieked when Canna announced that my father was here to pick me up. "I wanna stay!" I begged. The tall woman looked at me sadly. She grabbed my arm and pulled me outside. Tears streamed down my face as I felt my father's strong grip grab me by the waist and throw me into the car. "Shut up." The man grumbled as he slammed the door shut. I whimpered and curled up on the left seat, so I was behind him. This would make it harder for him to slap me in the car. "Brat. When we get home your cleaning everything!" He growled at me. I sighed and closed my eyes. An image of a man with black hair and soft blue eyes appeared. He was walking towards me with a sweet smile on his face. He was in his 30's or something. "It's ok,"  He promised me, holding out his hand. I was about too take it when someone slapped me. "WAKE UP!" my father yelled, grabbing my collar and pulling me up. I whimpered as another slap hit me. "You worthless piece of trash." He said, disgusted. I couldn't look away from his blazing brown eyes that looked almost red. Then he threw me onto the ground and walked away, grumbling. I stared after him, shocked. Most of the time when he did that I was slapped and punched and stepped on. Today I was just lucky. Sighing, I got to my feet. I stumbled a bit, then walked into the small house. There was already cleaning supplies ready for me. Surprising, normally my father made me go get them myself. I grabbed the spray and rag and wiped all the windows. I could feel my father's eyes burning on me the whole entire time. Once the windows were done, it was time for the counters and floor. I finished the house in two hours, then was released to go in my room. Something was wrong with my father, he was acting way nicer than normal. I walked into my room and gasped. The walls were torn and punched through. My blankets were ripped and my bed was smashed. The white dresser was taken apart and sliced up. Mysterious red stains were on my carpet. "Like what I did?" I whirled around to face my father. "W-what did y-you do this f-for?" My voice shook. The picture frame that held a photo of my family before was the only thing that survived. "Because this is what you deserved, dear." He laughed. I noticed something behind his back. Sharp tip, shiny, metal..."Da-ad.. why is there a-a knife behind you?" I asked, wide-eyed. Suddenly he looked at it and threw it at the wall. It barely missed my face. "Well, you just took out all the fun!" He cackled, grabbing my shoulder. I shrieked and he hit one of my biggest bruises. He noticed my distress and started hitting it again. "Worthless piece of shit." He scratched my face, making blood run. "Dad!" I cried. Yeah, he always abused me, but never like this! After about twenty minutes of pain, he stopped. I gasped as he let go of my shoulder. With one last punch he left to the living room. I sat there on the ground for a few minutes, shocked. I looked at my hands, and they were covered in my own blood. My father was grumbling something very loudly, so I peered into the living room. He was sitting on the couch, watching T.V. like nothing happened. My blood started to boil and I stood up. I stamped over to him and slapped his ugly face. "I HATE YOU!" I screamed, scratching his eye. I slid my shoes off and ran out the house. I was done with this damn life.