Bruises

imperfections

I felt like a slut.

You slept with him. You slept with him. That annoying voice in my head kept reminding me. I felt like I had to, I felt so pressured I just gave my body away. Even though it wasn't the first time, I felt like I forced myself to do it.

I whimpered in the shower in his room, as I covered myself in while the cold water touched my skin. Derek was currently asleep in his bed as I sniffed tears, feeling disgusted with myself. I looked at myself in the mirror across the shower, instantly hated what I saw back.

I hated my body, and the way I looked. I hated my tangled brown hair, and my blue eyes looking back at me. All the bruises on my skin, and my fragile bony form.

My pale skin was flushed, and goosebumps formed when I turned the water off. When I opened the door, I threw my underwear on, and a random sweatshirt on the ground. I grabbed my clothes and sneaked out his room before he noticed I was gone.

I dashed home with my clothes in my hand, before my dad would realize I was home late. Hopefully he was out drinking his ass off at a bar, so I wouldn't have to face him. I Quietly opened the door and stepped on the stairs causing a creaking noise.

I froze when I heard a voice stop me. "Where have you been?" I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "W-Work," I stuttered turning around to face him with my head down, and my hands behind my back. He laughed. "You slut, you were sleeping around weren't you?" He asked, even though it sounded more like a statement.

He took my silence as an answer. "You filthy disgusting waste of space!" He suddenly stroked me in the face and I went tumbling down. I whimpered in pain, only causing him to continue.

"Your mother would be disappointed," Don't listen to him. I kept on telling myself, knowing my mom would love me no matter what. My cheek now red and puffy, stinged, burning with pain from his knuckles.

"Get out of my house!" He shouted pointing the door. Some nights he would make me sleep outside like a dog.

"You mean my house, seeing as I pay the rent, and give you a place to stay, right?" I looked up at him, fire flaming in my eyes, and my bloody lip trembling as I spoke.

"You ungrateful bitch!" He kicked my stomach and spit on me.

He might have been my biological father, but he was never my dad. The man I no longer knew. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't always like this. He was more distant while my mom took care of me. He never cared, but he never hurt me like this.

I had no one to turn to. I never heard about my family or met hem. He would tell me how they were all dead, including his. I longed for a parental figure, but that would never happen.

I lay there staring at the ceiling alone in the dark. I didn't fall asleep till midnight, on the ground. I couldn't reach the stairs as I was so sore to even move.

I dreamt about me and my mom happily in paradise, and found comfort to it......