trust doesn't always come back

How the hell did that happen?

I awake the next morning smiling widely until I heard my dad's heavy footsteps and his bellowing voice, shouting my name. My body automatically starts shaking even though I try my hardest to control it. Not as easy as it looks, my father barges into my room, nearly breaking the hinges of my door. I sigh silently to myself and sit up hugging my knees, scared of what is about to happen.

"I heard voices last night, anything to do with you?" My father casually asks.

"Ermm.. No?" I respond, while daring to cast a look his way.

"Hmm.. It sounded like you, but it best not be you or you will be punished. I don't want you to turn out like the town slags. Keep your legs closed" he turns to walk out.

"Irrelevant, you rape me so.." I whisper to myself then go pale when I realise my father has heard and doesn't look happy. His expression changes to a dark dangerous look, I gulp and fake a smile. In a matter of seconds I feel his fist collide with my face and I immediately taste blood. I wince and swallow, the taste making me want to gag.

"Now what have I told you Scarlett about back chatting me? What if someone heard you say that?"

I felt brave and regretted what I was about to say.

"Maybe then they should see what horrible person you are" I knew from the look of his face he did not expect that and I was in a lot of trouble. He grabbed me by my hair and threw me against the wall, kicking my ribs which may I add cracked under the pressure. I close my eyes,not wanting to cry. I will not let him see me cry. As he draws his fist to hit me again the doorbell rings. I sigh in relief, but notice the panic look my father has attached to his face. I snicker quietly to myself.

"Do not say anything, not even a peep from you and I will be back" he leaves the room and I hear voices unsure of who they are. I hear the door slam and my fathers heavy footsteps coming towards my room. I stand up against the wall, waiting for the next blow but instead he peeps his head around the door telling me I will not be going school until I am healed. I nod in response, and sit at my desk, wincing as I touched my bruises. I hope my life gets better because soon I will be dead, I have a really bad feeling.