My New Daddy

16: Alone with Frank

Chapter 16

When I finally woke up from the black out state I was in it was still dark outside. The light was turned off in my room so I couldn't see a thing. After the dizziness let up I tried to sit up slowly in my bed. The only thing I was sure of was that I was alone in my room. I could just feel the emptiness. My body felt like it was hit by a truck. And then backed over by said truck. Trying not to cry out in pain every step I took I made my way to the door. There was no way I wanted to wake anyone up. I could tell from the snores in the room next to mine that It was late.

Holding my shirt together, I tip toed through the house to the bathroom. I could hardly see but I knew the house well enough to not worry. Closing the bathroom door most of the way first, I turned on the light. If anyone were to wake up I wouldn't want them to see my shirt. It was a gift from my mother so I knew I would be in trouble for it later.

Once the light filled the room I had to blink several times to get used to the brightness. After what seemed like forever I was finally able to look up at the large mirror that hung above the sink. Instantly I took a step back in shock. I tore my eyes away from the mirror. Looking at the horror of my face would surely be enough to cause the average girl night meres. I will simply clean it like a pro and go back to bed once I get over the initial shock.

I used the bathroom before taking a deep breath and facing the mirror again. Washing my hands, I met my eyes in the mirror again. The eyes of green and blue that stared back are all that would be recognizable to anyone at school. This is the face I know. Every day that I don't step through the crowded halls of my middle school I stare at this face. This is no longer the face of a familiar stranger. This is the face of me.

I run my fingers over the dried blood that runs from my mouth and down my jaw. With my left hand my fingers lightly go over the blood and bruises on my forehead. I'm not sure how those ones happened. Maybe when I was thrown on my bed? Or even after I had passed out? The majority of my injuries would most definitely have happened after my world turned black. My eyes travel down my battered body to see the rest of the damage. I take in the bruises and try to think how to cover them all. Bruises that appear to have been made by teeth surround my chest. The bra that I had been wearing is sitting crooked on my body. My right hand goes to my black and blue ribs while my left travels to my beaten stomach. I size up the bruises on my legs, having no clue how I got them. Tomorrow will definitely be a sweat pants kind of day.

The clothes I was wearing show signs of blood. Not that it matters now that they're torn. Turning on the hot water to the shower I step in as is. Hopefully the blood will rinse off my clothes so they don't capture to much attention. I curl up into a ball on the bottom of the bath tub. directly bellow the constant stream of water. The water turns red and then pink as it mixes with my blood. My eyes get heavy as I watch the evidence go down the drain. After it finally runs clear I get up and wash myself. Pealing the wet clothes carefully off so I don't bump my bruises I throw my clothes to the other side of the shower.

When I'm finally done I put my clothes in the dryer so I can later throw them away. I don't even bother waiting for them to get done before I head back to my room. Once my head hits the pillows I close my eyes and drift to sleep. I don't bother trying to cry my pain away. I'm emotionless by this point. Just sit back and watch my pathetic life pass me by day by day. There are no more tears worth shedding because of that man. Because of the things he does to me.

The next morning I can hardly get out of bed. The alarm clock screeches from the other side of my room and makes my head pound. I finally make it to the alarm and turn it off. Once I make it back to my bed I try to lay back down, but even that hurts. Usually when I look battered I'm not allowed to go to school. Hopefully after my late night shower I look better. The last thing I want to do is stay home all day.

As soon as I step foot into the kitchen my mother's eyes go wide. Obviously I wont be going to school today. "I made breakfast," she says in monotone.

"Oh. Okay." I look down at the floor and walk to the stove. It smells delicious.

Bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast sit out waiting for me. She only cooks breakfast when Frank is home. Even then it isn't that often. My mother must have noticed Frank's bad mood before even seeing what he did to my face.

"Do you want jelly for your toast?" I jump and turn around to see my mother standing right behind me.

"You scared the crap out of me!"

My mother slaps me across the face. Hard. "Watch your mouth!"

It hurts more than it should because of all my bruises and tears come instantly to my eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I was ju-just surprised," I cry.

My mother turns her back to me and starts to walk away. I decide to make myself a plate anyways since this doesn't happen to often. I pick up a plate and fork and get ready to dish myself some food.

"Go to your room," my mother says harshly, looking back over her shoulder.

More tears fall as I put my plate back down and walk away.

About twenty minutes later my mother opens my door. I've always hated how she never knocks. Especially when I am changing and someone is in the living room able to see in. "I brought you a plate."

"Thanks Mom," I sigh and take the plate from her. Starving since I didn't eat last night, I start to dig in right away.

"Your welcome honey," she says as she walks away.

I devour everything on the plate. I almost go out halfway through to grab some salsa until I hear Frank's voice. Even after I finished my food I was scared to go out into the kitchen. However, I'm not normally allowed to have food in my room to begin with unless I'm sick.

When I finally get the courage to go out no one even looks at me. My mother and Frank act as if I'm not even there. No doubt Oliver is gone at school and told that I'm sick. After I take care of my dishes and clean up the kitchen I remember my clothes are still in the dryer. When I open the door to grab them they are already gone. Frank doesn't do laundry. My mother had to of seen it. There's no way she doesn't know what happens if she's seen my clothes.

Realization hits me and knocks the breath out of me as I realize my mother must know the extent of what Frank does.