He lifts my heart up

¢нαρтєя 1- fαкє ѕмιℓєѕ

¢нαρтєя σиє

ᗪιαиα'ѕ ᑭ.O.ᐯ

I screamed out in agony as my cruel 'father' raped me. This wasn't anything new. Tears were now streaming down my face, he let out a cold heartless laugh as he removed himself from me. " There you go darling, now didn't that feel great?" I stared at his face and whimpered. "Answer me you little bitch!" He sneered. "Y- yes daddy" I managed to choke out. He smiled and left my room.

I had stopped trying to struggle against him long ago, if I didn't comply with what he wanted he would beat me up. I watched with lifeless eyes at his retreating figure.

I whimpered as I thought of my mother who he had murdered, I barely knew the woman since he killed her when I was three years old, the reason? She refused to let him have 'fun' with me, she died saving me. My mother was raped by this monster and then forced into marrying him, because she had nowhere to go, a poor, homeless, abandoned teenage girl who was pregnant at sixteen.

I staggered my way into the bathroom and shut the door, I sunk down against the wall and another burst of tears came in, but my cries were silent ones and I preferred not to be heard by anyone. I opened the cabinet and took the cool silver metal and ran it over my already scarred wrists multiple times. I took a shower and after wrapping my wrist in a bandage I dropped onto my bed into a dreamless sleep.

NEXT DAY

I groaned as my alarm rang that morning, despite being abusive, my father was a wealthy man and I didn't live in shambles, overall our house looked like a normal home with normal people, but nobody knew the secrets of what happens behind closed doors, no one but the walls who seemed to absorb the images of when he raped me, when he beat me up, only they seemed to hear my screams and whimpers.

I got out of bed and after brushing my teeth and washing my face I curled my light brown hair, then I picked out my red skinny jeans with a black hoody and a pair of black vans. I applied a bit of foundation here and there to cover any bruises and put on some mascara and eyeliner.

I stared into the mirror into my brown eyes. I saw all my stories, I also saw a broken little girl. I got my bag and went downstairs. No one. As usual. I grabbed a granola bar and made my way to my black Range Rover that my 'dad' got me for my 16th birthday because 'he didn't want me to stand out'.

I drove to school and parked, time for another day in another life. I swear it's like I live in two parallel universes, because at school I hide all my secrets with fake smiles that nobody sees through. I'm known as hoody girl cause I always wear long sleeves but to them it's only because I'm more comfy in them but in reality it's to hide my scars. Sure occasionally I wear dresses or short sleeved clothing so I use concealer.

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aυтнor'ѕ noтe

good? вad? coммenт and voтe pleaѕe ххх naaιlaн

Diana to the side