Pure Massacre // Billie Joe

(9)

I know it has been a long time, but hopefully this chapter will make up for it.

-Jo

Faith

"Faith, I have important people coming over tonight. I want this place spotless"

I look up from my book, a dazed expression on my face. I was so caught up in reading I hadn't realised Paul had come into my room.

"Pardon?" I say, but immediately regret. He wasn't going to like that reply.

Pauls eyes narrow, and he quickly paces over to me and rips the book from my hands. "Are you being a smartass, girl?!" He screams.

"No I swear!" I try and reason with him, but it's too late.

He throws the book to the ground, and grabs me by my pony tail. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping it would make the pain go away. But it never does.

"In exactly 2 hours I am coming back to check this shit hole from top to bottom" He says through clenched teeth. "If I see anything in the slightest out of place, you won't see daylight for a week. Is that clear?"

I quickly nod my head, trying to stop my chin from quivering. I would not spill anymore tears for him. He's not worth it.

Paul roughly let's go of me, and my hands fly to my head to try and stop the pain radiating off my skull. I hated when he grabbed me like that. It made me feel like I was an object in his power that he could just throw around.

I was just an object he could throw around.

Even when I heard the front door slam, I stayed in my position on the floor. I think it all the time, but I don't know how much more of this I could take. This wasn't living. This was a repetitive cycle of abuse and being walked all over.
Nothing is going to change if I don't do anything, I just needed to hold on for a bit longer.

I stand up, cringing in pain. I didn't have much time, and I needed to quickly clean up. If the apartment is how it usually is, I knew it would take quite a while.

By the time I'd finished a majority of the apartment, an hour had passed. I was exhausted from the constant work and little sleep. I had permanent bags under my eyes that no amount of care could make disappear.

I drag my feet towards my bedroom. This was the last room I had to clean, and I knew Paul would take special care in checking it out. If I had anything that he didn't know about in there, he wouldn't feed me for a couple of days. I guess he was trying to shut me off from the world.

While in the process pulling out the little of the contents in my draws and putting them back neatly, my hands grab hold of a particular shirt. I stare down at it with my eyebrows furrowed. It was unfamiliar, and I don't remember ever having it before.

Then it hit me.

This was Billie's shirt. Shit!

If Paul finds a male T-shirt in my room, he'll beat me to a pulp! And there was no way I could hide it.

I stand from my kneeling position with the shirt clutched in my hands. What was I going to do!? Paul would be home in an hour.
I could burn it, get rid of it, but that would just make another problem for me to clean up.

I begin to nervously pace around the room. My mind was reeling with pointless ideas and solutions. I had to do something! I couldn't think that Paul would let this slide!