When. (Our Second Life)

Chapter 3

"You should just crash here!" Sam insisted.

We were at the O2L house after a long day of walking around town laughing and getting to know eachother. By now, they're like my brothers. They're the best friends I could ever have. I felt blessed.

I had just said I was extremely tired. Its 11:00pm. I looked down at my clothes, which I wasn't sure if I wanted to sleep in them.

"I would, but I have no clothes," I say. I didn't want to leave, but I had to.

"Well, you could borrow one of my sweatshirts and a pair of shorts?" Trevor asks, wanting me to stay.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't stay. My uncle would be furious if he found out I was spending the night with six boys.

"I can't, Trev." I say pouting. "Y'all need to text me later, kay?" I say.

They all get up to hug me, saying goodbye.

"You need a ride?" Sam asks.

"Naw, I'm fine. Thanks though."

"Ok, well you are FOR SURE coming back tomorrow." Ricky said sternly.

"We'll meet at the beach, kay?" I suggest.

"YAHAAAASSS" Ricky says.

I say my last goodbyes, sad to have to leave my only true friends. I'll see them tomorrow, I remind myself.

I walk home, scared for what might come. My uncle may or may not be back. When I see the house, I notice that he's home. Damn it. I will have to be extremely quiet as I go in...

When I get to the door I open it as quietly as I can. But of course with my luck as bad as a black cat, it creeks. Loud.

Shit.

I hear my uncle arouse in the living room on the couch. I try to make my way to the stairs unnoticed, but fail.

"Where've you been, Rose. I thought I got it through to you last time that you don't defy my rules." He says slowly and slurred. "And I remember telling you you have to be home by 10:00. What the hell happened to this generation? They think they can survive by their own rules and not give a shit about what their wise elders have to say..." He rambled on, speaking snything that came to his mind. He was dead drunk, all his words slurring together like syrup.

He started getting up, undoing his belt from his jeans.

"Uncle.. please..." I whimpered, the tears threatening to spill realizing what my punishment was.

"You have to learn." he says, approaching me.

I cower beneath his large mass. His breath reeks of whiskey.

He raises his arm, the belt folded in half with the buckle out, the buckle being the thing he was going to hit me with. He brings the belt down on my face with a brutle force, whipping my cheek with a grunt. He dropped the belt and used his hands now, punching my stomach, legs, arms, using me as his punching bag. I cry, the tears constantly flowing, but that just causes him to be more angry.

"Grow up, quit being a child! This is how the real world treats you, you bitch! How does it feel? Not what you were expecting." he stops hitting me, finally content with himself. "Go to hell." he says, stumbling to his room in the basement.

I guess I'll see you there.

How I hated him. Yet I knew I deserved every last hit.

Once again, I force myself to get up. Honestly it could be worse. At least I didn't bruise very easily. only a few of his blows would actually show, mostly on my face. The ones from last night were nearly gone.