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I've never liked silence. The sound of nothing but your own breathing has never been all that appealing to me. I hate that there's nothing around me to keep me occupied throughout these lonely days. But sometimes being alone is better, it's a lot less painful when I'm alone. My thoughts are rudely interrupted by the sound of the stairs -the ones that connect the attic to the main floor- being unlatched and dropped down to create a staircase. My heart starts racing as I realize he's arrived, right on schedule.

He stomps up the stairs at a fast speed, and I catch a glance at his disheveled appearance. His hair, that was once neatly slicked black with hair gel now stuck up messily on his pale head. He wore his signature frown and dirty running shoes. He took one look around the room before his eyes land on me. His frown deepens as he looks at me, he was angry. I was terrified.

"Lucy, why haven't you changed out of those clothes?" He snarls at me. I look down and realize he was right. I didn't change like he had told me to earlier. I stood up, off of the cheap couch, and began fiddling with my shaking hands.

"I-I'm s-sorry." I stutter, my voice barely above a whisper. His cold gray eyes went wide with anger.

"Speak up next time you un-obedient piece of garbage!" He yells at me as he raises his clenched fist in anger. My body begins to shake at the sound of his angry voice. I always hate it when he gets in one of his moods.

"I'm s-sorry." I apologize as I duck my head in fear. He swiftly brings his hand down to my level and slaps me hard across my face. I whimper in pain as his rough hand makes contact with my tender skin.

It never gets easier. No matter how hard I try to ignore it, every time he hits me or kicks me, it hurts like crazy. The pain is unbearable. I should be used to it by now, but I'm not. All his harsh words and brutal attacks, I should be used to. But I'm not and I never will be.

He continues to inflict pain upon my body as I try not to cry. By the time he's done, I am completely numb with pain. Will I ever stop getting punished? Will I ever see my family again? Will I ever get out of this attic? A beam of light flashes across my line of vision, I search around for an explanation. My eyes widen in realization and fear as I focus on the perpetrator. A knife.

"This is long overdue sweetheart." He tells me. My heart starts racing and my body breaks out into the sweats. Help! Please! I'll do anything! Don't let him kill me! ... Please? Silently, I try to pray to god, but its useless. It's always useless.

"No. No. Please don't do this." I beg. "I'll do anything you want! Please don't! David please!" Tears uncontrollably roll down my cheeks. "David!" I scream as he approaches me with the knife wrapped tightly in his hands. Sweat drips from his forehead as he approaches me. I can see every imperfection on his face, every little detail. Every bead of sweat, every hair in his unshaved beard, every little disgusting detail.

"You're a waste of space. You're useless, ugly, and a menace to society. You deserve to die." He sneered at me. His words hit me hard. For the first time in two years, I realized that what he was saying was true. I deserve to die. I uncurl my body from my defensive ball on the floor and lie down flat on my back, waiting to die. He slowly comes closer to me. His grip on the knife gets tighter making his knuckles turn white. My heart starts to beat faster as I start to anticipate death. He slowly drops to his knees beside my body as his cold gray eyes bore into my once lively brown ones. "I hope you enjoy hell." He whispers to me as he lifts up my dirty nightgown. He then takes the knife and starts to drag it along my bare thigh just below my underwear. My tears have stopped falling. My breathing has slowed down, and I no longer feel anything. He puts just enough pressure on the knife to make it pierce my skin ever-so-slightly. I gasp as I feel the unbearable pain from the incision, it was enough to snap me out of my numb reverie. Blood begins to slowly seep out of the wound making my eyes water all over again. He continues cutting into me with the knife, he slowly drags the knife up to my stomach putting more and more pressure on the knife as he got higher. Before he reaches my chest he stops and pulls the knife out of my skin. Blood pours from the wound he created. I blink away the tears so I can take a look at his sinister face. Instead of an angry frown, I see a scared look on his face.

He looks absolutely terrified. Am I imagining it?

He's never looked weak or scared. It was as if he had just found out he had cancer, or his puppy died. His eyes glance over to me, before he unexpectedly throws up. I try to look away from him, but my eyes won't let me, it's almost like they want to see him in pain. After he finishes, he begins to shake. His eyes finds the knife that he had just stabbed me with and he grabs it. I half expected him to stab me again, but he didn't. He let out a breath before he plunging the knife into his own chest. I gasp in shock. It all happened so fast after that. All the pain and loss of blood seemed to catch up to me all of a sudden.

Big black dots begin to cloud my vision and I struggle to keep watching him. He fell to the ground beside me. My body starts to feel even more numb- something I didn't even know was possible. I could no longer feel the pain, it was as if I was never stabbed or beaten. But I knew it had happened. My eyes began to get heavier, and before long, it's too hard to even try to keep them open. Blackness completely clouds my vision and I give into its welcoming emptiness. Within seconds I lose consciousness. Possibly, forever.

A/N

Hey! It's Sam here :) I started writing this story a long time ago, but I just recently got the nerve to press the big scary 'publish' button. I haven't written much of this novel yet, but I will try my hardest to have another chapter/ part of this book written & uploaded by next week. Please tell me your opinions, but keep it pg-13 people, I don't want anyone to be offended! Okay, thanks :)

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