Ash Tray

Chapter Two

Ashley's POV:

The blade glided over my skin, blood replacing the smooth peach color. I was completely silent, I didn't flinch or wince. A smile tugged at my lips, relief washing over me.
"I'm in control of my pain right now. Dad can't take that away from me. Mason can't take that away from me. I'm in control right now."
I thought to myself quietly. After several long curved cuts on my thigh, I worked downward towards my knees. I had just reached a little above it when the door was flung open. I stabbed the blade deep into my leg from fear. I screamed out for the first time as my dad stared at me.
"What the hell are you doing?" He growled.
"I- I just-"
"Get your ass up!" I was frozen in fear, blood gushing around me. He grabbed my arm and jerked me up, leading me to the living room. I cried out loudly.
"Please dad no..." He slammed me down on a small wooden chair. The ropes were already laced around the back. He forced me down and bound my chest and waist.
"D-daddy- please not tonight. Not again..." I begged softly.
"P-please!" He grabbed his zippo lighter from the front pocket of his jeans and struck it. The flame jumped to attention as tears streamed down my eyes.
"I'll give you a choice. Do you want the flame or the blade?" His gruff voice hissed.
"Daddy please no!" I cried again.
"Choose!" I shook my head. I sat there in my blood soaked panties and paint soaked shirt.
"No." I cried. He pulled my arm to him. He held the flame under my wrist and moved it closer to my skin. The heat rolled onto my arm. He finally forced it against me. The smell of burning flesh hit my nose.
"Please!" I screamed. He lit a cigarette and took a drag. He blew a ring in my face and dropped the lighter, instead forcing the cherry of his cigarette into my skin.
"Please- daddy- stop-" I begged, my voice coming out in strangled gasps of pain. 
"I'm not your father Elle!"
"Please."
"You bitch." He growled.
"Take your shirt off..." Fear ran through my veins. He had never touched me in 'that' way. I prayed he wouldn't start now. He untied me and hurtled my shirt over my head. I cried out in pain as he pulled the razor from my leg. He carved a word into my stomach.
"No- no- no!" I screamed.
"Bitch"
I cried at the word.
" I'm not a bitch."
"You cut yourself. Do you want to die?"
"Sometimes." I whimpered.
"I decide when you die! You don't get to cut yourself and take yourself away from me.  You're my girl Elle!"
"I'm not her!" I screamed.
"I'm not Elle, I'm her daughter remember? Your daughter!" His fist came down hard on my stomach.
"Shut up! Shut up!" He grabbed a beer bottle and threw it at me.
"I hate you!" He screamed.
"Get away from me." He finally muttered. I jumped up and grabbed my razor from the ground. I locked the door to my bedroom and cut deeper than ever into my leg.
"If there's a God out there... please hear my prayer." I cried harshly.

After an hour of staring at the word on my stomach I ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of my stomach. I threw up loudly.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
"Oh god." I groaned. I stood up and crawled to the shower. I turned on the warm water and cried out in pain as it ran over all my open cuts. 
I groaned again quietly. I barely had enough energy to wash my hair, but I tried to scrub the blue out of my grey locks. Blood filled the bottom of the tub, giving the white plastic a red tint. I finished cleaning myself and went back to my bedroom. I pulled on a ripped t shirt and a pair of shorts. I wiped my tears and curled into a ball on the ground. I pulled a thick comforter around my cold body and cried softly.
"Goodnight." I whispered to the stale air.