Stranger in my bed

Chapter 1 Worth a shot

I was listening to the loud crickets outside in the tall grass as a speeding car with blaring music raced by on the street behind my house, well his house.

I closed my eyes and pressed my hands on either side of my face. It was dark out. Tear after tear rolled down my face as I knelt to the ground. Another car passed by this time really slow.

I opened my eyes and watched the next car and the next. My knees hurt so I sat down and crossed my legs, I closed my eyes and wiped my tears from my cheeks, the ones I missed rolled into my mouth tasting salty and warm.

It starts to rain so I look up into the stary night as drops fall on my face. I can't cry silently anymore the world had to know what had happened. He needed to get punished, I couldn't live in secret anymore it was killing me slowly. I wipe the tears from my face again, my vision getting blurry as I cry even harder. I wipe my eyes again and look at my hands they were covered in blood, my whole body ached. I screamed loud and cried even more gasping for air still feeling his fingers around my neck choking me. Even though I was away from him, the memories were still fresh in my head.

I got up and started to run and I kept running and running until I collapsed. I had no idea where I was but anywhere felt better than with or near him.

I felt free running, it was calming me in a way, running away from my fears, away from him. I was in the middle of a corn field in the dark wearing only my nightgown. My legs were all cut up and bruised and now bleeding from the sudden running reopening the wounds that never seemed to heal.

The rain came down harder making the soil wet and sloppy, I grabbed handfuls of mud and threw them into the empty space around me. I kept doing that until of course I fell face first into the muddy ground.

My hair, face and body was covered in dirt. I got up and tried walking realizing my feet were bare and cut. My body was bleeding and now stung because of the dirt seeping into my wounds.

I had to go back though or I would probably get beat again. I slowly trudged to my -well- his house. I was dirty and wet and I couldn't let him see me like this. The tear streaks on my face were probably dried up now, I wasn't going to cry anymore I had to be strong. I have to fight my fears rather than run from them. He couldn't know how much he pained me.

I hear a faint voice calling my name but when I turn around no one is there. It's just empty night swilling my whole. I break out into a run and head to the house, thinking maybe it could be him calling me.

I go in threw the back door and go upstairs. I get a towel and go to clean the muddy footsteps I made entering the house when I hear the liquor cabinet close, he was into it this late at night.

Crap.

But at least I know that it wasn't him that had called my name. But if not then who?

I quickly clean the footprints and creep slowly to the attic - my room - and lock the door.

Since he was the one that used to live up here he built a washroom, kitchen and bedroom which then became mine once he started drinking, seeing me less was the best to him. Beating me was his thing and bringing whores home from the clubs he went to nightly was something that he didnt need me around for to watch, thankfully, so he put me up here.

I don't even need to see him anymore only when going to school I need to leave threw the front door. Food I buy on my own or steal from his fridge but I get by. It's like I'm not his own flesh and blood, to him I'm going to end up a whore he doesn't care about me anymore only uses me and beats me for no reason.

I turn on the shower and put it at the max for hot watching the steam rise. I take off my clothes and get in.

Soaping up the sponge I scrub every inch of my body clean and I don't stop scrubbing until my skin burns. I can see my skins beat red but at least it's scrubbed down, but my hair still had dirt in it. I shampooed it three times and then conditioned it combing it out. It was starting to get long, almost at my waist now.