I woke up to mom pulling me out of bed by my hair. This happened every night. My parents dragging me out of bed only to hurt me and throw insults my way. My dad started kicking me in the ribs and telling me that I was worthless. My mom took a match and started burning my feet and back. Dad duck tapped my mouth so I could scream or yell for help. I was kicked and punched a couple more times before my mom tore the duck tape away from my mouth and threw me back in bed. I cried myself to sleep that night, all while devising a plan to run away. I couldn't stand this treatment any longer. It's really sad that I can't tell Devan or Collins about what's happening.
The following morning I took a shower and got dressed in some black leggings and and a too big hoodie. I put my hair in a messy bun before going down stairs. I said goodbye to Devan and Collins before they left to go film a vlog. Let the torture begin. Mom made me clean every single inch of the house while she and dad went out to eat and go shopping. I had to make lunch and dinner for them. By the time my brothers got home I was worked to the bone. "Hey Hannah! How was your day?" Collins said while picking me up in a hug. "It was great! How about yours?" "Let's just say it was quite interesting." Devan said while heading into the kitchen. "Oh look you got another bruise. What happened this time?" Collins asked, pointing to a bruise along my jawline. "Oh I was in the kitchen and I slipped on a puddle of water." "Ok then." Collins said before walking to the kitchen as well. I'm so sick of making up excuses of what I've been doing all day and saying that my day was great when really, it wasn't. I'm sick of putting on a fake smile for my brothers all the time.
Tomorrow night was the night. The night I would run away. Away from mom and dad. Away from the beatings and burns. Away from all the sadness and pain. But worst of all, away from Collins and Devan.
