The Mistake [Norman Reedus] Book One {{COMPLETED}}

Chapter 20

GRACE'S POV:

It was morning when I woke.  Beaten and bruised.
My dad was laying at the foot of the bed.  He had knocked himself out, drunk and crazy.

I still couldn't comprehend everything that happened.  My head was numb, as well as my whole body.  I had scratch marks on my neck from when he had gotten drunk, and a bruise on my rib from when he punched me for yelling when he took off the tape.  When he was done (And drunk) he had put new tape on, which hurt due to how hard he pressed it against me.

An alarm clock awoke him, causing him to drop the bottle in his hand, and causing me to jump and flinch my body inward, protecting it all that I could.  

He scoffed when he saw me, and he raised his hand to blow off more steam with another beating session, he realized his beer had spilled on the ground and he got up, annoyed.  He wipedhis forehead, and then kicked the glass under the bed.  He then slammed his fist on the clock, and looking at me.

Light seeped through the window in the back corner, and I could clearly see his face now.  It was defiantly my father, but I kept wondering how he got out of jail.  How he got to Georgia.  Why I had to be captured by his gang.  

He looked up at me, but when I lifted my chin and the light hit my purple and bloody face and warmed me up even more, his face hardened into a cold, hard stare.

"Oh my God," He started, pushing my chin up further with his finger and observing my face.  When he finally processed it was me, he simply sniffled, paused, then walked out and slammed the door with rage.  And that's when I cried.  I cried and sobbed until I was drained.  Until it hurt to breathe.  Until it hurt to cry.  And then I cried more. I had just had to go through the absolutely worst episode with my own dad, I didn't know if help was on the way, and I could barely breathe.  I had thrown up once last night, and my stomach wouldn't stop retracting, and I shook uncontrollably.  I was tired, cold yet hot, hungry, and sick.  Bruises, cuts, scratches, and blood, covered my whole body.

I hung my head, and didn't stop hoping and praying for sleep.  Sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep I told myself, forcing myself to drift off.

I was abruptly awaken by someone entering the room.  It was a girl, and she was dressed in a short dress and had tape across her mouth.  She was carrying a tray of food and sat down on the bed, not looking up from the shackle on her ankle.

She silently lifted a spoon to my mouth full of oatmeal, and still trembling, I took it.  She repeated this until I had finished the whole bowl, plus some kind of medicine that she made me take.  I wasn't sure what it was until it was in my mouth.  It was bitter and thick.  

"What was that?" I asked, curiously.  

She looked around and then peeled some of the tape back. 

"The men made it.  It's supposed to knock you out when they come in to hurt you.  The only reason they have you guys is to blow off their anger.  You see, all of these people in here have gone to jail, or lost someone they love, and they need something to punch.  I'm sorry." She explains, shuddering and feeding me a bite of cereal.

I didn't comment on the medicine, but on the inside, I so badly wanted to die.  To just starve myself, or drown myself.  When the spoon was in my mouth, I shoved my head forward to make it shove to the back of my throat so the medicine would come back up, but the lady seemed prepared due to how fast she pulled it out.

"I think your done.  I'm sorry." She said, sealing the tape back on, getting up and walking out.  

I spit out the cereal onto the floor, and held back all the tears that threatened to appear.  I didn't want to draw attention to my room so no one would come in, but that didn't help.  Another entered and I started to gets dizzy.  It was the effects of the medicine.