The Broken Pieces

chapter 3: All night

Hey, this is probably the longest chapter I've ever written, i think i like updating longer chapters at a time so I'm probably going to continue to do that, so please enjoy :)

I closed the door to the bathroom, and locked it, with two young, intrusive kids in the house, I really wanted to avoid one of them barging in on me. I turned the shower on as hot as it could get. I hadn’t taken a shower since I got here, I know its gross, and I know I have to, but I’ve just been trying to put it off.

            I take a deep breath, and move in front of the full length mirror on the door. It’s hard for me to look in the mirror, I see what everyone else sees when they look at me, and I can only imagine what they must think happened to me. My stomach twists into unsettling knots.

            The bruise around my eye was now beginning to lighten slightly, instead of complete black, it’s now a mixture of purple and blue. I lifted my hand to the angry red slash that went across my cheek, the cut was rough, and there was a bruise surrounding it. I slowly slid my jeans off and threw them in the corner then pulled my sweatshirt and t-shirt off together, I was left in just my underwear and bra. I looked at the rest of my body, the parts that I didn’t let anyone else see. There were large dark bruises that covered large parts of skin, and long cuts that were anywhere my dad had been able to sink his knife into, I looked like I had been mulled by a lion.

            As I looked in the mirror my eyes began to sting with tears and, I began to hyperventilate, memories of what happened flashed through my mind. The ground came fast as my legs wobbled and gave out from under me, my back smacked against the sink cupboard, and I instantly pulled my knees up to my chest and buried my face in them, heaving and sobbing. I could hear the screams, they were my screams.

            His hand clasped around my neck, and pushed me up against the wall. He tightened his grip, squeezing the air out of me. I clawed at his hands, frantically trying to pry them away from me, but I see my father’s eyes, how bloodshot and uncaring they look, I know he’s not going to let me go.

          “Please.” I manage to gasp, he pulls me away from the wall for a second and then slams me back into it with brute force, “shut up!” he yells viciously in my face. Then he let go and let me slide to the floor, coughing and gasping for air.

         “you are such a selfish bitch!” he yells, and then he plants his foot firmly in my side, I hear a crack and I slump over on the floor, clutching my side, I’m trying to scream, and cry out, but there’s nothing that comes out. My breath is caught inside me.

        “Daddy.” I whimper, but it comes out barely above a whisper. A growl-like sound comes from him, as he leaps forward crashing on top of me. Out of the corner of my eye, through tears, I see a silver glint, a knife. He’s holding a knife, and he’s about to bring it down on me. Alarms go off in my head, and I Instinctively I put my hands up trying to protect myself.

            The cold blade slashes my arm, I scream and try to hold the knife back from cutting me again, he punches me in the stomach, and my hands lower as my breath is knocked out of me, giving him time to swipe in with the knife. Immediately I feel a prickling sensation on my cheek, then I feel warm blood trickling down the side of my face.

            I let out a hysterical sob. He throws the knife down beside him. He grabs the collar of my shirt and lifts me up partly, and then slams me back down so my head repeatedly smacks the hard wood floor. And then he just stops, his breathing is heavy and his body is clearly trembling uncontrollably.

 He slowly moves off me a bit, and punches the wall angrily, as he mumbles to himself, it’s like he’s in his own world. With every ounce of my energy I have, I roll myself onto my stomach and try to pull myself away with my hands and knees. I barely make it a foot before I feel his hand clasp around my ankle, he drags me backwards. I writhe onto my back, kicking my leg trying to get him off of me.