Ms.Skeevy's Home for Young Ladies

WARNING: DEPICTION OF PHYSICAL ABUSE IN THIS CHAPTER!!!!

"of me!" Ellen ended her song and looked around nervously. The classroom was silent for a moment, before it erupted into clapping and cheering. Ellen felt her face go red, but she also felt herself smile widely. Dazed, she went back to her seat as the choir teacher, Mrs.Buffer, began talking.

" Well, that was amazing! Who knew someone so quiet could sing so loud? I am very impressed. Anyways, any people who still need to perform your solos will go next class. Have a nice day!" She said cheerfully as the bell rang.

All of the kids grabbed their stuff and dashed out of the room. All, that is, except one. Ellen hung back, slowly gathering up her stuff. Despite her success during her solo, she felt sick. She always hated the end of the school day.

She put the last of her papers into her binder and began to leave, but then Mrs.Buffer asked, "Ellen, do you think we could talk for a minute?"

Ellen turned around and gave a tentative smile. She always enjoyed Mrs.Buffer. She was funny, nice, and a wonderful teacher. But sometimes, she gave Ellen this look, a combination of concern, sympathy, and pity. Ellen hated that look. It made her think that Mrs. Buffer knew too much.

"I must say, you really did absolutely wonderful on your solo today," The choir teacher said, walking over to Ellen, " I never knew you could sing like that! Do you sing often at home?"

"Not really, I just sing every once in a while," Ellen lied. In reality, she sang every day for around an hour, before her dad got back from work. She didn't know why, but she LOVED singing. It allowed her to forget about all the stress and worry in her life.

"Well, I think you should. Not only that, but I think you should get a vocal coach. You already have a lot of talent, but with the help of a professional, you could be even greater! What do you think?" Mrs.Buffer asked.

"Uh... I don't know. I mean, it sounds really great, but..." Ellen's gaze dropped, and she mumbled, " I don't think my dad would approve."

Ellen could feel Mrs. Buffer giving her the look, but she kept her cheerful tone as she said, "Well, that's a shame. If you ever reconsider, just tell me, alright?"

"Of course, thank you," Ellen turned to walk away, but Mrs. Buffer stopped her. "Ellen?"

Ellen turned back around. Mrs. Buffer looked at her with so much concern, Ellen couldn't keep her gaze.

"Listen... If you ever need to tell me something, don't even hesitate. I will always be here to help, I promise."

Ellen nodded slightly, even though she had no intention of telling the teacher anything. With a quiet farewell, she rushed out of the room. Unfortunately, it was time for her to go home.

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Ellen trembled as she looked at her front door. She didn't want to go inside. She knew what was waiting for her, and she knew it wasn't anything good. She wanted to run away, to go somewhere safe and warm. But where would she go? She had no friends, and no other family. Her mother died during childbirth, and she never met any of her relatives. She was alone. Inside was the only home she ever knew. With that thought she opened the door and walked in.

It was quiet. Usually on a Friday she could hear the TV going when she got home, since her dad didn't work that day. He would usually just be lazy and drink a whole bunch. Fridays were the worst.

She crept through the hallways, trying to avoid stepping on the dozens of beer cans that littered the floor. Maybe he was out drinking? But his car was in the driveway. The only other explanation is that he was asleep. She thought about going to the living room to check, but she didn't want to take the risk. Instead she quietly walked into her bedroom and shut the door.

Unlike the rest of the house, her bedroom was actually clean. There wasn't much in there, she only had a bed, dresser, and closet, but she managed to make do. The walls were covered in different pictures that she drew. She wasn't a very good artist, but she enjoyed drawing. Plus, the colors made the room more inviting.

Ellen dropped her backpack on the floor and went to the bathroom. After doing her business, Ellen washed her hands and looked in the mirror.

Ellen, for the most part, didn't hate the way she looked. She didn't despise her long sandy hair she always kept pulled back, or her pale blue eyes. She didn't mind the way her face seemed to droop, or the permanent bags under her eyes. There was only one part of her body that she wished she didn't have: her skin.

Ellen washed off her irritating makeup to reveal various and scars littered across her face and arms. A yellowish bruise stretched across her left cheekbone. Her shoulder seemed to have a permanent dent from a particularly nasty cut. Ellen sighed and left the bathroom. She didn't like looking at her wounds.

Ellen walked back to her room, making sure she kept absolutely silent. If she could make it to the bedroom without getting caught, she should be safe for the rest of the night. But just as she reached her door, someone grabbed her hair and pulled hard. Ellen yelped in pain and surprise as she was thrown to the floor. She whimpered in pain and looked up at her attacker. Her heart sank.

Her father was tall and fat, with unkempt hair the same sandy color as hers and an unshaven face. He wore a dirty old shirt covered in stains. The smell of alcohol on him confirmed her fears: he was drunk.

"You b----! You told, didn't you? You f-----g told!" He screamed at Ellen, slurring his words.

"No! I swear! I didn't tell anyone!" Ellen responded shakily.

"Don't lie to me! Yesterday people kept giving me dirty looks! They all know, and it's your stupid loud mouth that told them! You're gonna f-----g pay!" Ellen's father grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her up roughly.

"Please! No!" Ellen screamed, struggling, but it was no use. Her dad was much stronger than her. He threw her into the small living room, with only a small tv and a chair. Ellen hit the TV and it shattered. She wailed as shards of glass cut into her back.

"You broke my TV..." Ellen's dad stared at her, a whole new level of fury etched onto his face. Ellen whimpered in fear.

"YOU F------G B----!" He roared, and picked Ellen up again. She screamed in a desperate attempt to alert the neighbors, but no one came to her aid. No one ever did.

Her father threw her head first into the wall. Ellen's scream stopped abruptly, replaced by a strangled gasp. She crumpled onto the floor. Her head throbbed painfully, and she could feel blood trickle down her back. But the pain in those spots paled in comparison to the pain in her stomach as her father kicked her once, twice, three times.

Now sobbing uncontrollably, Ellen clutched her stomach. She attempted to stand back up, only to be punched square in the nose. She heard a crack and let out a blood-curdling scream. She slid back down the wall, pushing the glass further into her back. She could not think straight. The pain was too horrible.

Her dad picked her back up by the head, and slammed her into the wall.

"YOU-" SLAM! "F-----G-" SLAM! "PIECE-" SLAM! "OF-" SLAM! "S---!"

It was too much. Ellen slumped down and started to fade. Her father kept yelling things at her, but she could no longer process the words. She just sat there, covered in her blood and tears, and accepted her fate.

Ellen's world faded to black.

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So yea, this is my first book on here! Don't worry, it's not this violent the rest of the book. Honestly, this chapter is the only reason this book has a R rating!

Thanks for reading!

B.