Because Who Could Love A Broken Girl? ✔️

Who Could Love Knights In Shining Denim

Skylar's P.O.V.

I open the door to my old home, sticking my head through the small crack before walking in. I've lived in this house for seventeen years.

So why does it feel so foreign?

I expected to see my drunken father sleeping on the couch with the usual beer bottle clutched tight in his hand. I expected to see my filthy house. Walls stained with beer and blood. Floor covered with trash and bottles.

What I don't expect to see is a spotless house, completely empty. It's as if no one ever lived here to begin with.

Suddenly feeling freaked out by the heavy atmosphere, I decided it was best if I take my leave.

I'm one foot out the door when a strong hand grabs the collar of my shirt and pulls. Sending me flying to the ground, and knocking the wind straight out of me.

Before I get the chance to catch my breath a large foot finds its way to my rib cage. Followed by a fist.

"You. No. Good. Worthless. Bitch." He growls in between kicks. "You really have the guts to come back here, after walking out on me?"

"I'm sorry, s-sir."

I feel the tears brimming my eyes as my vision blurs.

"You little shit. Clearly the punches aren't enough to prove that I own you." He says evilly.

I stare in fear as he continues.

"Maybe I should just kill you. It's only fair. You took two lives. The least you could do is give your own."

He began leaning down to me closer. I squint my eyes shut, awaiting the punch that is yet to come.

But nothing could have prepared me for what happened next. I felt two strong arms wrap around my torso and then...

He kissed me.

Not my lips, nor my cheek or a fatherly peck on the forehead. But my shoulder blade.

He began leaving a trail of kisses up my body, each one disgusting me further than the last.

I wanted so badly to stop him. To push him off and run away. But I just froze. How could I possibly know what to do at a time like this?

He places a kiss on my right shoulder. Then two up my neck. And one more on my jaw line before he's right in front of my face.

He's only a centimeter away, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath.

I stifle a gag and turn my head away from the disgusting old man. The man I was once proud to call my father. Now the words taste like poison to come out of my mouth.

This is not my father.

He stopped being my father the day he laid a hand on me. The day he blamed me for the death of my loved ones. The day my life became an inescapable hell.

"You have been a very naughty girl. Do you know what happens to naughty girls?" He asked in a whisper.

I squirmed in his arms. Which only made him tighten his hold on me.

"Answer the question!" He yelled with a slap.

"N-no, Sir, I don't k-know." I say shyly.

"They get punished." He says with an evil glint in his eye.

I turn my head, awaiting the lecture. The beating. The merciless act my father commits. Every. Single. Day.

But it never comes. I opened my eyes to see that he had indeed moved back. Now standing over my trembling body.