Red's Short Stories

Moni [part 1]

"Eep!" I screeched, covering my face with my arms to protect my face. The blow from him knocked me down, landing with a loud thud. The pain stung my back, like little scratches that my kitten gives me on my arm from time to time. Unable to keep in the pain, I groaned in pain, wanting it to stop immediately. His heavy footsteps told me he was getting closer, probably for another hit, I guess. As I curl up into a ball, closing my eyes tight, waiting for another blow or a strong kick into my side. But, nothing happened, just silence filled the room with the stench of alcohol radiation from his body.

Let me back track for you, my name is Moni, a sixteen year old teenage girl, with blackish hair, bright blue eyes with a hint of green in them, red natural lips, which I thank myself for. My black hair goes to my shoulders, making my hair naturally short. Also, to me, I'm not that pretty like every other girl is, with looks that'll make anyone stare at for a long period of time. I'm just a girl that people will glance at and continue their day like nothing happened. Oh! I forgot to say this, I am the tall girl out of my small group of friends, being Five foot nine has some advantages and disadvantages in a high school filled with students being shorter than you.

Anyways, I have a parent who has a bit of a problem. Oh, who am I kidding, They have a huge drinking problem. As the many time that they told me to hide the alcohol, they always find it, soon enough, using the empty bottle to hurt me for hiding it. Not everyone knows it, only my friends do, which they will sometimes Blackmail me, telling me if I don't do something, then they will tell. I don't even know if they are my friends or not, and why I still hang out with them in the first place. I should just leave, but then my friend, Raychel, will just bombard me with questions on why I wasn't there, where I was, and other questions about my safety and health.

Raychel, or Ray, continues to reel me back into the pond of 'Friends' which I should stop calling them that, I should just call them 'Strangers.' That is a good name, now that I think about that, wait, no, that isn't a good enough name or label for them. Ray would either find me, or catch me walking away from where she and the 'Strangers' hang out. Bombarding me with questions, like always, looking me up and down for bruises, scars, cuts, or blood spots to question and be full of concern about. I don't blame her, if my friend was covered in bruises or scars, cuts, or anything that is hurting them, I would ask questions and worry about them.

I need to either find friends who will help and fight with me, or just ignore everyone from my life, since they are not helping me at all. They just joke around, thinking that I said about my parent hurting me was a joke to continue the laughter. It makes me sick, and I continue to say that it is a big problem, and I need help with my big problem or else. My stomach turning sour as my throat goes dry at their laughter about my problem, and everyone passing by, giving them and me weird looks.

I should just leave, as in leaving home, leaving my friends behind, but somehow, I can't. I can't leave without facing some sort of obstacle in my path to freedom. I am not a free bird, I am locked up in a cage, a small tight cage with a very small door to leave in. I want to leave, end this pain and misery, and start a new life, a life where I can no face as much pain as I do now. But, I am dragged back to reality, to my 'Father' or someone alcoholic with no life, hitting me, screaming, yelling, bruising me, glaring at me, basically telling me that I am no good...

I need help... Can someone, or anyone help me from my misery and pain. Sadly, no one can, no one knows my problems, no one knows how to help without making things worse. No one, those words swirled around in my mind, imprinting themselves.

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[Part 2 will be soon]

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