Just the Beginning

~Prologue~

"Where 'av you been, Ariana!" My dad roared as I tried to sneakily enter the house.

"Father, you know that I was looking at universities today." I answered him, my voice barely over a whisper.

"An' who is goin' to cook and clean the house while you're gone?" He questioned. His face became redder as he slowly moved toward me.

"I apologize, father, but I'm sure you could have managed on your own." I tried to reason. That probably wasn't a good choice.

"Don't you dare talk back to me, you wench!" He cried, taking the first swipe at my face, "Besides, I know what you were really doing. You're just like your mum, you are! Sleepin' around.. Or maybe you were out for a smoke? Gettin' drunk, were ya?"

His voice got increasingly louder with each accusation, and the punches, kicks, and slaps hurt more each time. Thankfully my face had become numb, and I could no longer feel the pain his slaps should have caused. Unfortunately, though, I could still feel the rest of my body, and the pain pulsating through it.

"Answer me!" Father demanded, grabbing my hair, and holding me off the ground, "Tell me where you were!"

"I already told you!" I whimpered, "It was the truth!"

"You an' I both know you've been lying to me for years, girl." He growled, throwing me against the wall, and pulling his knife out of his pocket. He flicked it open, and inched closer to me, breathing heavily. When he was close enough, he jerked me up by my arm, keeping his hold on it. From this close, I could smell the unmistakable scent of alcohol on his breath. I was actually surprised that I hadn't noticed before.

"I'm givin' you one last chance." he offered, "Now you better tell me where you were!"

"I told you! I told you!" I rushed out, as tears finally began to spill from my eyes. "I was looking at universities! Please, let me go now, father!"

He pressed the cool blade of the knife into my arm, just below my shoulder. Once it broke the skin, he slid it slowly down, a malicious glint in his eye. I had two choices. If I told the truth again, he would continue the abuse. If I lied, he might let me go, but who knew what else he would do. Still, option two seemed more promising.

"You were right!" I blurted.

"What was that?" He cocked his head to the side, and pulled the knife away from my arm right before he reached my wrist.

"I am a liar. You were right. I was smoking, that's why I wasn't here. I'm sorry." I lied.

"I thought so!" Father shouted, throwing me to the ground. "You know what you are? Trash. Trash is what you are. I raised you, and I taught you better! I don't go out smokin' when I should be workin'! If it weren't for me, you'd be homeless, you would! But you, you don't appreciate me, do you? Do you? You're a disappointment, you are. I don't want to see you. Leave!"

At the last word, he picked me up again, and threw me against the wall. I don't know how I found the strength to move, but I did, and slowly crawled to my room. When I entered my small room- which most would consider a closet -I collapsed on my bed. I couldn't handle the pain anymore. Sleep was bound to come soon. Before my eyes closed entirely, I looked at my arm. The cut didn't look too deep, but it was bleeding excessively, and desperately needed to be cleaned. I made a reminder of that beforehand eyes closed, and sleep consumed me.

••

Author's Note:

Hello! Thanks for taking the time to read my story! If you couldn't already tell, this was just the prologue. I had to get it written down before I lost the idea completely. I'm hoping to get the first real chapter up soon, so you don't have to wait long!

Rosey <3