Bruises

5

I got up this morning, kind of dreading the day, because my only plans were to go grocery shopping. I had snuck out last night to go have dinner with Dylan at a restaurant the night before, and I couldn’t tell if my father was home when I came back or not, so I was wondering if he was here or not. I went down stairs to start breakfast, wearing baggy pajama pants and a gray tank top over my sport bra, at nine. I turned on the light in the kitchen and started getting out the things I needed for breakfast: eggs, bacon, and biscuits.
“Where’d you go last night?” A deep husky voice said from the living room. Practically giving me a heart attack, I dropped the egg I was holding. Watching it crack on the floor, internally groaning at the thought of cleaning it up. “You scared me.” I said looking to see my father standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “Answer me Margaret. Where did you go last night?” He asked me harshly with a stern face. He was here when I came home last night, I was screwed, and there was no backing out now. “I met a friend.” I answered quietly. “Yeah right. You were probably out banging some guy for money you little whore.” He said walking right up to my face. Tears began to pool at my eyes, threatening to spill over, I couldn’t let them, they would only make it worse. “I wasn’t doing that.” I replied quietly. “Bullshit Margaret.”
I didn’t even have time to try to guard myself before his hand cracked against my face, sending me crashing to the floor. “HOW DARE YOU LEAVE MY HOUSE WITHOUT PERMISSION!!! You do what you are told, you understand me?! You little whore. Did he give you what you wanted? Did he? DID HE???!!!” He screamed at me. Repeating the last line while ramming his feet into my abdomen repeatedly, pain shooting through my entire body every time. He lifted me off the ground forcefully and dragged me to the living room before throwing me back to the floor. My head cracked against the floor, and I felt ward liquid trickling down the side of my face. Blood, great. He yanked my head up by my hair before slapping me with even more force than before. He continued kicking me rapidly. My arms, my stomach, my legs, my back, anything that he could get to until I was curled into a fetal position in the middle of the living room. He abruptly stopped and stomped away and up the stairs before slamming his bedroom door shut, making me jump.
I just lied there, for what felt like hours. Bruises were already forming everywhere on my body, but there didn’t seem to be any breaks. There were a few cuts, the most major of which was the spot on my head. Blood had dried on my face, skin, and in my hair by the time I was able to lift myself off of the floor and sit on the couch. I took deep breaths, and wondered how in the hell I was going to explain this to people, let alone explain it to Dylan. I was able to hide the beatings before from him, using excuses like tripping or a sore body part, but now it would be more difficult. We were always touching each other whether it be in an embrace or simply holding hands, I wouldn’t be able to hide this.
I was too frightened to try and go upstairs to clean myself up, so I just stayed downstairs on the couch. Just sitting. Until there was a knock on the door. Before I could even think about getting off of the couch, the man who was my father came down the stairs. “Sit your ass down.” He said pointing to me. I did as I was told. He opened the door, and invited the guest inside. I was too scared to even move so I just sat there. “So, this is your daughter?” said a voice. I slowly turned my head to the side to see the owner of the voice standing before me. It was the same man who had come to the house the day that I went over to Dylan’s. What the hell was he doing here. “Yes it is. She’s all yours. If she wants to act like a whore, she’ll just have to be one.” The monster said before walking up the stairs. I knew what he meant. And to say that I was scared wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg.
Taking advantage of a teenage girl, a child anyway, is inhuman. I was the victim of this inhuman nature. By the time that the mysterious man had got done with me I was lying back down, shaking, on the couch feeling completely numb. I couldn’t feel a thing, I felt low, dirty, and horrible. My first time, wasted. Wasted on a man who I had never met. Wasted on my father, a sick, evil, and demented man who thought that doing this to me was okay. I lied there, unmoving, for two hours before the monster came down the stairs. “I’m going away on business for three weeks. I don’t give a shit what you do. You’re just a worthless little whore anyway.” He said before walking out the front door.
He was gone. I was safe, for three weeks. I got up slowly, and dragged myself up the stairs. I peeled off my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water run down my body. The warmth loosened my tense muscles, and helped me to clear my head. Before I could even move tears streamed from my eyes, large sobs erupting from my body. I scrubbed at the cuts on my arms and legs, they weren’t too severe but they needed to be cleaned before they got infected. I stepped out of the shower and dried off before pulling on a different pair of pants and an oversized sweatshirt before sitting down on my bed.
Things were never going to be the same again. I had been violated, violated beyond repair. To keep from erupting into tears again, I pushed it to the back of mind. As if it was all just a bad dream, and that it wasn’t real. I couldn’t stay in this house any more, it would only make me paranoid. I picked up the phone and clicked on Dylan’s phone contact.
RING! RING! RING!
“Hey baby, how are you?” His voice asked through the phone.
“Pretty good.” I lied
“Well, that’s good.”
“I have a question for you.”
“And I have an answer.”
“Do you think your parents would be okay with me staying at your house for a few weeks. My father is out of town for the next few weeks, and staying in this house alone for that long would make me paranoid.” I was undermining everything. Every single last tiny thing.
“I’ll ask. One sec.” He said. I could hear him ask his mom and dad, explaining the situation. “They love the idea. You’ll be here for Christmas, New Years, and Your Birthday.” He said excitedly.
“Fantastic. Can I come over now, if that’s okay?”
“Of course you can. I’ll leave the front door unlocked, so just come in when you get here, and jst come straight up to my room.”
“Will do. See you in a bit.” I said before ending the call.
No matter how horrible my life could be, there would always be the one thing that could make me feel as if everything was okay. That thing, was Dylan and his family.
I quickly packed a bag with enough stuff to last a week, I was able to leave the lady stuff here because that was over for the month, which made the bag much lighter. Thank god. I dragged the bag down stairs, setting it by the front door before grabbing my messenger bag and filling it with necessary stuff: phone, wallet, two pairs of headphones, phone charger, pepper spray, and the remainder of the money in the emergency jar which added up to about thirty dollars. Hopefully that would be enough for almost a month.
I grabbed my keys off the hook before dragging myself and the bag out the door and on the street, headed to my salvation.