Everything is okay now

1: Knife drawer

This chapter deals with blood and abuse. May be seen as gruesome by some viewers. You have been warned.
-Anonymous1509
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"Janelle!" My father yells in his very loud and terrifying voice. His voice immediately makes me shiver, as it always does, and I try my very best not to collapse onto my knees as I get out of my very small bed.

I walk out of my room, and then down the stairs, touching each step with my feet as slowly as possible.

The moment I make it to the living room floor, I see an angry Leonardo Clarkson.

Once I notice the expression on his face, and the shattered beer bottles on the floor behind him, I know tonight will end in cuts and bruises.

It always does.

As my father stares at me with a raged look, it is clear that he won't be easy on me this time.

Before I can say anything, he says, "You know what to do." He sounds drunk, but there's never exactly a time when he doesn't. I could count his sober days on one hand.

Hesitantly, I glide to the kitchen, and open the knife drawer. I pick the sharpest knife, knowing there will be consequences if I choose a dimmer one. There have been consequences before.

Since dad is wearing a belt today, I expect the worst.

I shut the knife drawer, and I walk back to where my dad is standing in the living room. I hand him the knife.

"Hold out your arms." He nearly whispers, but it's loud enough to hear.

Gradually, I hold them out, rolling up the sleeves on each arm. I stare at the cuts from yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and they are all jagged and red. I hate them.

Before my dad does what he has done for years, he looks at me and says "Why were you late getting home from school, Janelle?"

His eyes are petrifying, and it takes everything in me not to run, knowing that he would catch me, and could easily kill me.

My voice quivers as I speak. "Mel- Melanie drove me ho-home, and she stopped by Wendy's." My father laughs at my response.

"You can't even tell me anything without your voice shaking. You're weak. Just like your mother and brother was." Next thing I know, he's cutting my arms and there's so much blood. I fight to hold back tears.

He snickers, and the sound is wicked.
"You know the rule. Ten extra cuts for each tear." I try my hardest not to burst into floods of tears, and after forever, he stops.

He begins pulling off his belt, and hitting me with it without a warning. I bite my lip to stop from screaming, and after probably hours, when I feel like I'll pass out if this goes on much longer, he quits hitting me.

"You know you're not supposed to be home late. Maybe if you weren't so disobedient, you wouldn't have cuts all over you, and I'd let you by with just a beating, but you never learn. I'm done with you. Now go upstairs."

I nod my head immediately when he finishes talking, and I practically run up the steps.

I have to get away from this.