Two minutes before the bell rings my dad texts me telling me that he'll be late getting me so to start walking.
Forty minute walks home gives me plenty of time to clear my head before I go back to that small home filled with anger and hate.
All I could think about was Jake's eyes. How they sparkled... and his lip so kissable you just want to lean in and take the chance. But all above, the fact that I could never have him. He's Jake, like he's even want me. But even if he did, my dad would never allow. He would beat me if you even saw me breathing near him.
As I walk along the side of the road reading "The Hate You Give" I hear a low grumble of a sports car engine.
It gets louder as it gets closer and I never look up as it speeds past me.
I expect to hear the sound get fainter but instead I hear it get louder again.
The hum of the engine slows across the road. I still don't look up. Daddy taught me to mind mines and nobody else's.
I hear the car honk and I jump a little. I place my book mark and give respectful attention to the driver. You never know who it may be.
The tinted windows slowly drift down and I come face to face with him. With Jake.
I bit my lip nervously. At any minute my dad could drive down the road to meet me.
"Get in" he said blankly.
Who did e think he was? Giving me orders.
"I'm fine. Thanks anyway." I smiled, opened my book and kept walking.
His car screeched in a U turn to pull facing me.
"In the car. It's getting dark." He demanded.
"I'm not allowed to get rides home. Thanks for the offer. I'll be fine." I said nervously.
He got out of the car and opened the passenger door as my dad's truck swerved drunkenly down the road.
"Shit" I said as my dad stomped towards me.
I could almost see the smoke huffing out of his nose.
"Sabina Ima fu-" he stopped realizing the other person present.
"Get in the car. NOW!"
You don't gotta tell me twice.
I practically leaped into the seat of the old rusted pickup truck. The passenger side door squeaking as it shut.
He glared at Jake for a few seconds longer and turned on his heels heading toward the car.
Jake watched us for as far as I could see as we pulled off.
I thought I was home free. We lasted a whole 6 minute car ride without him hitting me. Maybe he saw the whole thing and saw me trying to walk away.
I approached the house and fucked my head down the look into my bag for the key.
BANG
All I saw was darkness. My head swirled round and round. What the hell just happened?!
I came back into consciousness and peered up at the door.
Why is there blood there? Who's blood is that?
My head pounded. I reached up to touch it.
Shit, my blood.
"Bitch get up so I can get in the house. That's what your fast ass get. Now up." He shouted grabbing my wrist so hard I could have sworn it snapped right there.
My body swayed. He hit my head to the door. How could he do that to his own daughter?
He probably got sick of waiting for my weak swaying body to retrieve the key.
He let go of my wrist shoving me to the ground, and kicked me to the side.
He left me out there and went in the house alone.
Darkness overtook me. Hopefully I was dying, better then this continuous abuse.
YOU ARE READING
Bruised Roses
Teen Fiction"I'm so used to the hits it feels like rose pedals on my skin. Leaving red and purple bruises behind. His words hit me like the wind of spring, the time I was born, the time the roses were born. Well now I was as red as a rose. All these bruised ros...
