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"You will never escape me! I'm everywhere! If you ever try and leave me, you'll regret it my son!" he yelled; gripping the back of the neck tightly.
"I'm not your son! And you'll never be my father!" I screamed.
~&~
"D-dad, p-please," I begged crying my eyes out.
He pushed me harder against the wall and I gasped at the amount of pain. He looked down and took something out of his pocket.
I looked down and panicked. He had a glass bottle in his hand.
"Please," I cried, begging for my life.
He then smashed the bottle onto my head.
~&~
"You weakling," my father yelled as his whip collided with my bare back.
He had be tied up, my arms spread far from my body.
"You're a failure," he yelled and gave me another shot.
"Stop, please," I cried.
He laughed. "No," he said then gave me the hardest amount of whip power he had left.
~&~
We're going to talk about you're mother." He smirked and I knew what was coming next.
I found myself lying on the floor a few seconds later grunting in pain.
"You are going to feel this in the morning." he said and started kicking me.
"Dad, please! I'm begging you, please, DAD!" I screamed struggling under his hand.
He laughed and gripped his knife, pulling it out from the drawer.
~&~
"I'm Mrs Peters, Carson's therapist. I thought you'd know."
"Why would my son be going to therapy, he has no problems?"
"So, you're going to therapy, why?"
~&~
I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Your life is pitiful," he said then gave me a blow to the shoulder.
"Your life is worthless," he said and another blow was given on my back as I fell to the floor.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Angel
Teen FictionWe were just two odd teenagers, laughing in the park at midnight in our homecoming attire. We were in our own little world, and no one else could enter except us.
