Ugly

4

     As much as I try to make my dad a father figure, he is not. He's cowardly and broke, coming back to my mother to get a few bucks out of her. She lets him. He was the one that made me and me brother ugly. He was unkept and scruffy. He smoked and raped and molested and-- and sadly, today was not a luck day, for my father had came over.

     "Hey, dad," my brother said with excitement, "Did you bring it?" My father smiled softly and kneeled down to pat his head.

     "I'm sorry sport," he sighed, " Daddy couldn't get the toy truck like I promised. Daddy had some money issues and thats why he's going to mommy for help... " Timothy seemed disappointed to hear that Marc couldn't get the truck. And here he was, staring at me with a grin on his stupid, ugly face. "Hey, Avery," he muttered, "hows my favorite sperm cell doing~?" I sighed and gave a soft smile.

     I grinned back, "I'm doing fine," I answered, "Thank you for asking... " My father had walked up to me and pat my shoulder. I glared at him. "I'm not doing it anymore," I whispered.

     "What do you mean you're not doing it anymore?" he questioned, "You have no choice... I'll make your mother take your brother out for ice cream and shopping and we can have the whole house to ourselves... " I shivered as he touched my arm.

     Did I also mention that he takes me whenever he's over?"

~~~

     I cried as my father hit me again, grabbing my hair and pulling me to his crotch. My mother took the bait and left with my brother so it was just me and Marc. "See, it feels good right?" I whimpered, tears rolling down my red, bruised cheeks as my mouth was full of, you know what. "Quit crying... You are so ugly when you crying... " I cried out as he smothered his bodily fluid on my face.  "Do you want me to stop?"

     "P-Please," I whispered, "I don't like it!" I could barely word my sentences correctly. My jaws and throat had hurt from all the screaming I had done. "Please let me go..." I whimpered as he lifted me up onto his lap. I rested my head on his shoulder and gripped his arms. "I'll do anything, just stop it!" Soon I felt excruciating pain. I felt my body being ripped apart and I couldn't help it. I gripped his thighs. "I HATE IT! I HATE IT! I HATE IT!" I screamed, trying to kick my father, only to be pinned to the couch. I couldn't help but cry harder, for I never felt so much pain in my life.

     He wrapped his hands around my throat and began to choke me, all while using my body as if it was a female's. I felt disgusting. I felt like I wanted to crawl in a hole and never come back out.

     Fortunately, my mother came early. When my father heard the car door shut, he froze and let off me. I gasped for air and turned onto my side, wiping the sweat from my forehead. "Shit, put some clothes on," he muttered, throwing my clothes at me. I quickly slipped on my shirt and underwear, baring the pain that had shook my body. My ass burned and throbbed from all the abuse and now, I could barely put on some pants. I sat down and winced, looking over to see the front door open. "Big brother!" Timothy yelled, excitedly coming into the room with two scoops of vanilla ice cream in a cone. I stood up and pat his head. "Ma took me out to get ice cream and to go shopping! I got new clothes!"

     I wiped the tears away and grabbed his hand. "Let's run away, Timothy," I whispered, pulling him upstairs. "Pack everything you need. Dump everything out of you school bag and place everything you can till it fills up... " Timothy furrowed his brows again. "I'll explain everything when we leave.... " Timothy nodded quickly and ran to his room. I went into mines and grabbed a extra, old book bag and stuff a few shirts and pants in there. I then added my tooth brush and tooth paste. I threw in my phone, 40 bucks, and my credit card into my bag before zipping it up. I figured Timothy would fill his bag up with stupid things so I went in his room to help. To my surprise, he was doing well. "Hurry... "  Timothy stuffed more shirts and pants in there, adding a tooth brush and a stuff animal. He zipped up his bag and reached for my hand. I tugged him downstairs and into the living room.

     "Where are you guys heading?" my father questioned as he walked up to me. A cigarette hung from his cracked lips. He blew the smoke in my face. "You guys aren't thinking of running away are you? Your mother would be devastated... "

     I glared at him, "Like you'd care!"

     "You're right, I don't," he sighed, "I just don't want the ugly hag bothering me about it.... " I shook my head, my eyes widening. "Now sit your asses down and wait for your mother to get groceries from the car... "

     "No!" I ran past him tugging Timothy along, running out into the street. Tears had ran down my cheeks as I pulled Timothy across the road. "Timothy we're going to run and run and run till they'll never find us, understand?" Timothy nodded, holding my hand tighter. As we walked onto the sidewalk, I turned my head to see Ivy, sitting next to Danielle on the bench we sat that night. I had looked at them and paused, stopping right in my tracks. His yellow longs had swayed back and forth as he talked and laughed with the dumb jock. His eyes soon met mine. Timothy looked up at my in confusion. "Let's get walking.... "

     Timothy looked back at the two, "Do you know them?"

     "Nah," I lied, "Just thought I knew them... "