WARNING!!!! ABUSE AHEAD!!! If you don't want to read about abuse, please skip the chapter
SIGNE'S POV
"See ya tomorrow, Signe," Jack called before running towards his house. I waved a tiny bit before dropping my hand. I wanted to stay here, with my newfound friends. This was the only place in the world I had ever felt safe. I turned to walk the way to my house. I didn't want to go back. Didn't want to face him. I slowed my steps but kept walking forward. I had to stay positive. Maybe he wasn't home. Maybe he went somewhere. (Done with my pronoun game yet?😝)
I caught a glimpse of the steps to my house in the distance. A car was parked in front. A 1996 Pontiac Bonneville. I froze in my tracks. He was here. I took a deep breath and kept going. I crept up to my house door. I fiddled with my bag, pretending to look for my keys. C'mon Signe, stop stalling, I thought. I pulled out my keys and opened the door. I looked at the floor, noticing a few beer bottles. Great. Just great. I shut the door a little more forceful than I wanted to. "Who's there?!" I went rigid. "I-It's just m-me, D-Dad," I said, almost inaudible. "Who?" I sighed. "I-It's S-Signe," I said in a louder voice. I heard a low growl then stumbling. There, at the doorway to the living room, stood my drunk father. "You bitch," he yelled throwing a empty beer bottle at my head. I may be small and clumsy, but I was quick enough to duck before I got glass in my face. "You should have died! Not her!" Another empty beer bottle. I tried to make it to the stairs, which was something I soon realized I should not have done. He grabbed me by my hair and threw me against the wall. My head snapped back from the thrust and I hit my head, hard. I slumped to the floor, barely able to move. He ran upstairs for a second. No. No no no. He was going to grab a belt. I crawled along the wall, trying to get away. I felt a hard whip across my bag. I bit my lip to hold in my cries. I was going to be strong. I felt several more lashes to my back until he stopped, dropping the belt, and leaving the room. I pulled myself up on the wall. Black dots swam in my watery eyes. I got up the stairs as fast as I could and trudged to the bathroom. I pulled off my shirt and looked at my back. A total of about 11 bloody cuts were strewn across my back. I grabbed some antiseptic (AYYEE!) and applied it to my back. I sucked in a breath. Once I was done treating my wounds, I looked at myself in the mirror.
What have I done to deserve this?
YOU ARE READING
That Girl Full of Secrets (Septiishu)
FanfictionSigne Hansen has recently moved to Ireland. She meets and makes many new friends. But what is she hiding from them, especially Jack? And why is she hiding it? This is a bad description and I am sorry.
