Demoralized

Canvas

A/N: Only bonus you'll get until October😜 not sure if I want to make this a fanfic yet

Sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth whispering to myself that there's a light at the end of this very dark tunnel. Jumping in fright as I hear plates shattered thinking of my battered wounds.

"Adrianne!!" His drunken voice calls, yet I remain still like in trance. I hear stomps of steel made by his heavy boots racing upstairs.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Coming to my right mind I hurriedly jump, thinking of a way to escape, but it's too late. Slamming the door open he's furious. I start to cower and backaway shaking in fright, I know he hates when I do so, but I'm already in so much trouble.

"Did you not hear when I called you?" Too afraid I don't answer.
"Answer me bitch when I talk to you!!" He yells slapping me.

"Yes, yes I heard you."
"Why didn't you come when I called you? All I ask of you is to clean, cook and watch after your sister while I go to work!" I was so furious he's nothing but a drunk, who gets his rocks off by abusing his family.

"I'm sorry."
"Sorry?! Hahahah! Sorry isn't going to cook me dinner." Punch. "Sorry isn't going to clean the dishes." Punch. "Your nothing but a worthless whore like your mother." Repeatedly he punches  me in the face, breaking my nose in the process. And when I fell down, he made sure to kick me in the ribs, with such a force that I heard a couple of cracks. Snatching me by my hair I was forced onto my knees, looking in the eyes of the man I once called Father.

"Go wash your sister up for supper and make dinner, while I have fun with your mother." With that I was dragged to the stairs and thrown down. With my fragile and sensitive body I felt each bang and bump as my head met the hard wood. Wheezing, I coughed up a few drops of blood, not nearly enough to set my father into a panic, like he'll care. Besides I was used to it, grateful enough that I wasn't killed. When I was sure he was gone I crawled to my sisters room, gathering all my strength I stood up.

Looking her in the eyes, I saw hers gloss over as she took in my bruised body.

"Come Aliyah, you have to get washed for dinner." Nodding the little six year old tumbled to the bathroom. As I ran the bath water she waited patiently on the toilet seat. We could hear the rocking of the bed upstairs along with slaps, the degrading words my father called my mother while he hammered into her and her crying his name out in pleasure. With a look of disgust I covered Aliyah's ears. When the water was warm enough, she stripped and I lifted her in. As I scrubbed her clean I decided to sing to her.

"Remember those walls I built?
Well, baby they're tumbling down
And they didn't even put up a fight
They didn't even make a sound
I found a way to let you in
But, I never really had a doubt
Standing in the light of your halo
I got my angel now." Clean I drained the now dirty bath water and wrapped Aliyah in her white fuzzy towel. She insists since mine was black hers had to be white, the yang to my yin.

Even with my sore body I carried my little sister to her room, blowing raspberries at her. As she smiles she made sure to show her dimples, knowing I love them. I picked out her favourite SpongeBob pj's and braided her shoulder length hair into two braids. As I walked to the kitchen she followed me like my little shadow.

Humming I thought of what to cook, we didn't have much, but I'm used to turning scraps into a gourmet meal. Before everything went shitty, mom and me used to cook and bake while humming our favourite song. Why doves cry, by Prince.
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Finished I had made a simple pasta with scraps of bread, that I turned into garlic bread. And a store strawberry cheese cake for desert. During the last hour Aliyah and I sung; What makes you beautiful by One Direction, making sure not to make too much noise. Harry is her favourite, while I obsess over Zayn. Hearing my fathers grumps
and foot steps, I hurriedly told Aliyah to take her place at the table, while I set the table. Just in time my father came into the small dinning room with my mother by his side. Looking at her closely I could tell she tried to hide her black eye with her red hair. Haven't seen her in days, I took a look at her appearance which was by far better than my battered one. Besides the black eye all she had was a busted lip, she walked just fine too, as well as she could from just being roughly fucked.

My father checked everything to make sure it was perfect before my mother and I were allowed to sit. Will, my father took his place at the head of the table with my mother to his right, I to his left and my sister at the end. Dinner was ate in silence until the bastard broke it.

"Wonderful food by the way Adrianne, see what a little encouraging does. But you can't have any dessert, your fat enough as it is," he said taking in the appearance of my wide hips and big thighs. I never thought of myself as fat or a hippo more of a hour glass figure. But, after years of abuse the emotional; mental abuse gets to me. It's far worse than physical abuse, because it isn't easy to heals and leaves theses ugly scars on you heart. So yes I believed Will, but tonight I didn't care.

"Yes sir."
"Good the bitch finally has manners. Be a good girl and clean up." Replying Aliyah frowned and snuck me her piece before she was chased off to bed, leaving me down stairs alone. After cleaning up I grabbed cheese cake from the cabinet and headed upstairs, I finished it while watching Supernatural.

Walking into the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of my reflection. My once long silky black hair now dull and lifeless hung down above ass. My hazel, amber eyes look like the life has been sucked out of them; dull. And my hourglass figure is slowly slipping  away, littered in bruises. I once thought that I should be proud of my body, but now I know the truth, I'm just fat. Noticing the tear falling down my cheek I turn the shower on, making sure the water is hot enough to burn. Picking up my old trusty blade I begin cutting the fat flesh, small but deep enough. One for being fat, two for being a dumb whore, three for my life being shitty.

A/N: hey let me know what you think.