My Life as a Spy

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The whip slashed down onto my back only three times before mother came in. She was jumping up and down excitedly pointing to their television, motioning my father to come and watch it. I opened my eyes and looked at him; his expression slightly annoyed. It was probably because I showed no signs of discomfort. I didn’t have the energy to cry or whimper in pain.

Today had been a hard day, doing track events in sport, especially since mother and father haven’t fed me properly for the last four days. I looked at the whip, seeing blood, my blood dripping from it. I turned away just as it came down again, swiping across my back and part of my arm. I winced as it hit my arm, my back felt numb but I could feel the immense pain that rushed through my arm.

“We’ll finish this later,” father said, more pleased to have gotten a reaction out of me.   “Now go to your room.” 

I ran up to my room gladly, shutting the door quietly behind me for it angered my parents if I slammed it. I knew father wouldn’t finish anything later; he would probably be far too drunk to remember. I sighed and got a shirt ready to put on and squeezed through a crack in my wall, to our backyard.

I filled a bucket with the icy cold water from a tap and poured as much as I could on my body. I had only discovered the tap and the crack in my wall the year before. I was able to wash my wounds from then on to prevent infection and from getting bloodstains all over my clothes. I walked back into room and changed into a set of knew clothes.

I lay on my bed and thought about the week that was coming; it would be the first week of school for the year and I wasn’t looking forward to it at all. I hated school; nobody liked me, the students as well as the teachers. I didn’t particularly mind not having friends; however I didn’t like the constant bullying I would receive.

Everyone thought I was all closed up and different, which wasn’t exactly untrue. I did close up my emotions and I suppose I was a little different. The only thing I did like about school was the free martial arts lessons we could attend for free after school on Tuesdays. It was mostly boys who did it but I didn’t care; it wasn’t like I had any friends to do it with. I’d been doing it for a few years so I’d progressed up a few grades. I was excited for it to start again.

I closed my eyes, half awake, half asleep, and contemplating about whether I should skip school on Monday, when I heard my bedroom door open with a bang.

This doesn’t sound good, I thought, worriedly.

I poked an eyes open and looked at my father, his face beetroot red and furious. “What?” I said irritated. I wasn’t in the mood to do anything but sleep.

“You do not speak to me like that, young lady,” he growled. “The social services just came by. And your mother was drunk at the time.”

I could imagine the blood draining out of my face and gulped, “Uh, what did she say?”

“You do martial arts on Tuesdays,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “I forbid you from doing any extra-curricular activities afterschool and from now on you must come home straight after school. Am I clear?”

I nodded, cursing inwardly, “Yes.”

“So you must be punished now,” he smiled, producing one of the kitchen knives from his coat and held an empty beer bottle in the other. I just gawked at the bottle as it came at my forehead and saw stars spiralling around me as I fell into blackness.

My head was pounding as I put my hand up to touch it, seconds later realising I couldn’t. I looked at my surroundings, I was in the kitchen with my arms and legs were bound, sitting on a stool. I saw my father in the reflection from a slightly open window coming towards me. He ripped my shirt off and I felt the cold wind from the window biting at my skin. I looked up and saw father just above me.