A Little Bit Stronger

Chapter Two

     I jumped when the door slammed shut. He was home. I took a deep breath and ran my hands through my hair, I was never ready to face him. As I walked out of the kitchen I saw him and my mom. She was so oblivious, it was so obvious he was a scumbag, but she was always to wasted to notice. 

     "There's pizza in the kitchen" I informed the two of them quietly.

     "You made pizza?" Martin asked without looking at me.

     "No, we didn't have anything to make dinner so I ordered it" I said looking at the ground. I could fell my heartbeat quickening with every second i stood there.

     "So you're saying that you haven't gone shopping" he turned around then, glaring at me.

     "I haven't gotten paid yet. There's nothing I can do about it" I said and almost immediately regretted it. I tried to back away but he was already in front of me.

     "What was that? Are you talking back to me?" He questioned.

     "No, I was just..." I was cut off by the tingling sensation of his hand connecting with my face. My hand immediately flew up to my face. Martin grabbed my wrist and pulled my close.

     "You are a pathetic little bitch" he whispered tightening his grip on my arm. I whimpered. "What are you gonna do about it, huh?" I knew better then to respond. "Exactly. You are weak. Worthless." he said letting go of me causing me to fall. His foot came in contact with my stomach as I heard his voice, "Get out of my sight".

     I quickly got up and ran to my room. Laying down on my bed tears instantly started rolling down my cheeks. I wanted to leave or fight back but I knew I couldn't. I would never be able to make it without him catching me. 

     It was time to check the damage.  A red mark on my left cheek, four scratches on my wrist, all of which beginning to bleed, and a nasty bruise forming on my right side. As well as a throbbing headache from hitting the ground. I cleaned myself up as best as I could and made my way back to my bed. I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep, and even if I did i would be shortly awakened by the nightmares that have plagued me for years, but I was in search of comfort and safety. Something I may never again have. 

     I rolled over to my left side and took a deep, quivering breath. I hated crying, it made me feel weak. Something Martin hated. I had trained myself not to cry in front of him or my mother. Once I was alone in my room with my lights turned out there was no stopping the tears. A mix of pain and hatred and sadness. I would lay there, for hours and wonder why no one cared. Why I wasn't good enough.