Beyond the Wall

Chapter 1: Picture perfect family

"You look beautiful" my mom placed her pale hand on my shoulder. She gave me a small smile that never reached her eyes. I looked at her with worry in the mirror and she turned away leaving her warm touch from my shoulder. I looked myself up and down. My long brown hair was done in a French braid descending down my back, I had a worn out grey dress falling just above my knees, and my shoes were black slip ons too small for my feet.
I looked at her in the mirror, her back still facing me. She was organizing my shelf, even though it didn't need organizing. As she was moving my things around I noticed a purple spot on her arm. Not just one though; multiple. I finally turned to her. My hair whipping around and hitting me in the face.
I stared at the bruises.
"Mom?" My voice cracked. She turned her face to me. She was crying. Her eyes were swollen red and her cheeks were wet with tears.
"Did he do this to you?" I whispered taking a step towards her. Before she could respond there was a slam of a door and obvious staggering below us.
I looked back at my worn out mother and she had a fake smile on her face.
"Don't worry, dear. It's just from work." She walked up to me and kissed my forehead. She placed her warm hand on my check and cradled my head.
"Your father is home so behave. I will go make you some breakfast before the ceremony. Come down when you are ready." I nodded, my head still in her hand. I looked at her once more before her hand left my now wet cheek from tears. Once she left the room I broke down. Tears were staining my cheeks and my eyes became bright red. I buckled down onto the floor and held my arms. I was shaking uncontrollably unable to stand. My step dad is a monster. The bar is his first home. This is his second. If he isn't drinking he is here yelling at both me and my mom. Telling us we aren't doing anything right or making us pay for not doing what he tells us. I can handle the beating, but my mom has been through enough. I was only two when my father was chosen. My real father. I don't remember much from that time considering it was 16 years ago; but I do remember his gentle touch and love towards my mother.
I look at a picture hanging from my wall. The picture frame cracked but the picture still visible. My father and mother hand in hand probably a year before the virus outbreak. She is so beautiful. Her dark brown hair just reaching her shoulders and green eyes full of love and light. And a smile I have never seen before. A real one.
I wipe my nose with my bare arm and sigh. Finally have calmed down I get up slowly from the dusty floor and straighten myself out. I walk in front of the mirror wincing with every step from the small shoes and look at myself. My eyes are swollen and snot is running down my nose. I wipe my tears and nose with the inside of my dress and fix my hair.
"Alright... Just calm down. Everything will be alright." I sigh once more and turn on my heels away from the mirror. With the door knob in hand I twist it and head for the stairs.