Don't leave me. Ever...

Chapter Eleven: Cuts and Bruises.

Chapter Eleven: Cuts and Bruises.

[Skylar’s POV]:

I pushed open the front door wishing that my “dad” wasn’t home. Every part of me hated him so much that I wished I had the guts to leave. I had no reason to stay here but for some reason I could never get myself to leave.                   

“Why in hell’s name are you here so early boy?” My father’s voice suddenly boomed as I shut the door behind me.

I took a deep breath in and out before trying to silently make my way up the stairs to my room. The one thing I hated more about my father was that I was afraid of him. I shouldn’t have to be afraid of someone in my own home. Once I took a step onto the staircase it made a loud squeak.                                                                                                                                            

“You think you can ignore me?” His voice was coming from right behind me.

I felt myself me dragged of the stairs and into the kitchen, feeling that my arm could’ve been broken he was dragging me so hard. Once he let his grip off me I grabbed my arm almost gasping at the shooting pain that was pulsing threw my arm.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

“Why are you such a fucking little wimp?” He yelled at me noticing that I was in pain.

He turned away from me and lit up a cigarette. I flinched away from the lighter that he held in his hand. Another thing I absolutely hated, fire. I looked at him almost glaring as he turned back to me. His eyes seemed so emotionless so dull that he was almost like a statue. There was nothing in him who was good anymore, he was a complete monster.      

It seemed like he nothing else to say to me so I started to walk away from him.                                                                                                

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked me with so much venom in his voice he almost sounded like a beast.

I felt myself me pulled back into the kitchen and pushed backwards into the kitchen counters. I feel backwards and hit my head on the counters before sliding to the ground.                                                                                                                                        

“Like I said before, wimp.” He growled in disgust.                                                                                                                                            

“I’m not.” I muttered quietly.                                                                                                                                                    

“What did you say boy?” He asked me almost amused.

“I said I’m not a wimp!” I tried to yell but wasn’t strong enough.