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   Her eyes creaked open reading the red numbers. Blinking 7:30 AM. Her stiff body laid dead on the tiny bed in the corner of the room. Her brain had already started to scold her that she had to get up for school despite her new wounds.  But her heart fought her brain as it wanted her to stay in bed so that her limp and weak body could rest for a few more hours. Sleep was like the cure to all cruelty and evil in her life. Even though she listened to the heart too much, she snapped back into her own world. If she wanted to get into a decent college, escape hell,  she would have to get up and face the day. 

  So Karena did rise up from her bed. Her back cracked as her spin raised up straight. She looked down into her lap and stared at her hands. Purple bruises covered her fingers like paint. Then she curled them into fists and hid them back into the sheets of her bed. She turned her head to the right, looking into a small but inviting mirror placed above her dresser. She found a morning scowl on her own face. The face of anger but not rage. Behind that frizzy blonde hair was a girl who looked defeated. Her hands reached up to push away the hair away from her face, so she could see her reflection more carefully. 

  Karena saw a girl who realized that her reality was always there to hit her in the face. And not figuratively. She saw the bruises. The cuts. The newly black eye. And as she stared and stared, she remembered a rhyme that seemed to always come back to her. The rhyme her parents and old preschool teachers used to tell her. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. That rhyme never left her brain. As her physical strength had become weak, she became smarter. The harsh and bitter words were not kept to kill her, but to give her reason in time. She was not going to give up. 

  She removed the covers from her legs. More bruises. And she swerved around so her feet could touch the cold concrete floor. She stretched her arms to the sky. And gave out a yawn louder than a roar. And she walked over to the dresser and mirror across from her bed. She examined the black eye she had just gotten. Karena thought to herself, "Alright, eye-shadow should do the trick." And she opened her squeaky dresser. Inside was a clutter of things you wouldn't find a regular girl's dresser. Dirty makeup was scattered everywhere. From broken pieces of blush to dried up mascara. Necklaces were knotted together and the back of earnings could prick her finger if she had reached in there quickly. She reached for her black eye-shadow and started to smear on the opposite eye. She also put eyeshadow on the black eye itself. She made sure that her abused life was an illusion. So that no one would suspect what was happening to her. 

  "Karena! Come up here right now!" A loud and demanding husky voice called up above. And Karena froze. The eye-shadow dropped from her hands and she started to shake. She turned pale and her bright browns eyes dilated. 

  And took a big gulp and responded, "Co...o..oming Mi...iiss..ss..t..t..ter Nervester!" 

  Her voice trembled and Mr. Nervester could tell. 

  "Oh, Karena we've been over this a million times. Call me dad." 

  Mr. Nervester was the Ceo of a major clothing company for children. Safe Place Incorporated. He worked and worked for the job ever since he graduated from Princeton. He was admired by other aspiring entrepreneurs. He was a major face of the business industry. But he had a dark side. Just like his father, he was an alcoholic by night and professional business by day. When Karena had become an orphan, he took her in when she was 14 years old as his own. He did this to improve his image to the public after being accused of murdering his wife. No one ever found out whether or not he actually did kill her. But Karena knew that he did. For Karena has seen his cruel side. Ever since she has been in his household all she had become was his own personal slave. She slept in a dark corner of his lavish basement. And beat, kicked and scratched her daily. And if he was really drunk, he'd take her by the hair, and drag her around the house. While during the day, he abused her mind with manipulation. But Karena never fought him. She also never fought anyone who made fun of her for her countless bruises scrapes.  

  Karena brushed the broken black eyeshadow into her dresser. She stumbled and ran around trying to brush her big orange hair. She went into her small closet and grabbed a shirt and jeans she wore two days ago. She struggled to squeeze into the clothes as Mr. Nevester started yelling, "Darling Karena, you can't take forever you know." 

  She started to sweat and drop things from her hands. She bent down to pick up her socks and car keys. Then Mr. Nervester slammed the door open. This made Karena jump and fall onto her butt. He looked like a proper business asshole. With his expensive suit hanging over his arm and perfect silk backed hair. The way he held his briefcase was firm and strong. But, the stench of leftover whiskey filled the room. Karena's breathing got heavier. And she started to shake. 

  "Karena, you spoiled, little, girl, you can really waste my time with messing with clothes or makeup." He said with a disappointing look on his large and intimidating face. And he walked towards Karena slowly. 

  Karena fell silent. She just couldn't spit out the words she wanted to shout. She stared at the ground and her mind began to blur. 

  "Did you hear me Karena?" he was now standing over her. She heard his breath. His overbearing breath.  

  She trembled as she raised her head, "Y..yy.yes."

  His concerned look turned into a larger frown. 

  "Karena, you have to stop acting like I'm going to harm you. You know that I would never hurt you," he said as he extended his hand to help her up. 

  Her eyes spoke the words of, "What the hell are you talking about?" But she gave her hand to his and he helped her off the floor gently.

  "Well I mean I only do it to straighten you out. You only get what you deserve," he said as he suddenly gripped her hand. 

  She tensed up trying not to cry as her hands were already bruised from last night. 

  "Well,  I'll see you tonight. Have a good day sweetheart. Maybe tonight you'll sleep in your actual room." He left the room and headed upstairs. The smell of hard and demanding whiskey left the basement.

  Karena got off her balance but caught herself in the doorway, and she watched him go up the stairs. And she was still breathing unsteadily. She couldn't believe her ears. The lies he had said were worse than before. Not only did he hurt her, but he made everything had ever done to her, her own fault. 

  She had calmed herself down started to breathe normally again. Karena grabbed her socks and car keys and headed up the stairs that lead into the front room of his house.  

  The house was breathtakingly grand and open. With many large windows and high ceilings. Everything had a white or tannish color. And the decor fits into place perfectly. But as Karena came up from the basement, the whole house blinded her and she could only see a beautified prison. 

  And she saw the irony in it all.

  Mr. Nervester's slogan for his company was, "Clothing for the children we care for." And yet his own daughter was being treated like a stray dog.

  This life came upon Karena in the most sudden way possible. But little did she know that it will make her stronger in the long run.  

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 16, 2017 ⏰

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