Miranda P.O.V.
"Please dad stop!" I screamed as my father slapped me across the face. "Stop being a whore then!" He screamed as he continued to strike me endlessly. After many long restless minutes of abuse I ran upstairs crying. I mended a large gash on my cheek from when my father hit me with a book that he found under my bed earlier that day. When I was finished patching up the wound I quickly walked downstairs to scrub the kitchen and remove the blood that came from my cheek from the counter before my mother got home. My mother never was to find out about my abuse unless she just happened to be there or else it would just get worse. Every time I had a cut or bruise I would be forced to say that it was an incident during gym class at school.
When I was finished I ran up the stairs to clean the small smudges of blood from my hands. After I was finished I went into my bedroom and locked the door so that my father could not enter my room while I got changed. I quickly got changed out of the tattered cleaning clothes that I had to wear when cleaning up the evidence of my torture. Very few minutes passed then my mother came home. I ran down stairs to greet her. "What happened to your cheek honey?" She asked in a sweet voice. I saw my father glaring at me from behind my mother. "It was just an incident while I was in gym today. I tripped over a basketball and landed face first on the solid ground." I lied. "Aww, poor baby." My mother said before wrapping me in a warm embrace.
My father glared at me yet again which was a sign that I had to let go of mother. I let my arms fall to my sides and when mother noticed this she let go of me. "I'm going to go upstairs to finish my homework. Good-bye." I said before neatly walking up the stairs. Before I entered my bedroom I peeked around the corner and looked down the stairs to find my mother and father kissing. That ignorant asshole does not deserve her at all. I thought to myself before quickly scurrying to my room. I quietly shut the door and pulled my book bag out from inside of my closet. I pulled out my notebooks and papers then I slid a small journal out from inside of a notebook. I opened it up to one of the few vacant pages and wrote:
Dear Journal,
I was abused yet again today. At least it wasn't as bad as yesterday when father nearly broke my arm. I have succeeded to hide all of my marks from mother and father looked pleased. I don't understand why he treats me like garbage. I cant even escape this at school. I am being physically abused at home and emotionally abused at school. I just want it all to stop. Everyone seems to think that they are better than me in every way, shape and form. I wish this could all end one day. Me and mother could just pack up and leave father. Well I have to stop writing and finish my homework.
I closed my journal and hid it back inside a notebook. Suddenly the door to my bedroom swung open and I quickly started writing down math problems. My father stormed into my room looking pissed off. "You didn't clean up all of the blood you little bitch." He said before slapping me across the face. I screamed as an unbearable pain shot through the right side of my face. My mother quickly rushed upstairs and saw me laying on my floor crying. Before she could burst through the door and stop my father he slammed the door shut and locked it. "Please stop this Harold!" Mother screamed as she began to cry and started pounding on the door. My father ignored the pounding and threw everything that was on my bed across the room. I was still laying on the floor crying.
My father grabbed me and threw me onto the bed. He ripped the old t-shirt that I was wearing off and tore it up. He used the torn strips of cloth to tie my wrist and ankles to my bedposts. I knew that there was no use trying to resist. My father had all the power here and all I had was nothing but shame and anger. My father grabbed a pair of scissors of my nightstand and cut off my old ripped jeans that were way to big on me. I was laying on my bed with no clothing on accept my bra and underwear. Why my father chooses to rape his 14 year old daughter I will never know, but what I do know is that it will never stop. After a few hours past my father cut my restraints loose and left me on my bed exposed and crying. I grabbed a blanket from the floor and wrapped it around my body. My father unlocked the door and stepped into the hallway to find my mother sitting on the floor leaning against the wall crying.
She stood up and tried to enter my bedroom but my father slapped her across the face. "If you ever tell anyone I swear that I will kill you." He said before pushing my mother to the ground and walking down the stairs. Mother scurried to her feet and ran over to me. She examined the bruises on my wrist and ankles. "Honey I am so sorry." She said before wrapping her arms around me and bursting into tears. "It's okay mom it wasn't your fault." I replied quietly before also bursting into tears. I let loud sobs escape my mouth as I hugged my mother. "Don't worry sweetie I promise it will never happen again on my watch. I will protect you the best that I can." My mother said before wiping my eyes. "It's not the first time mom." I said. "Oh honey I am so sorry." She wiped her own eyes and kissed my forehead before leaving to make dinner for her dumbass husband.
I quickly grabbed some clothes and got into the shower. I scrubbed my body the best that I could. I put on some sweatpants and a tank top. I slid a hoodie on over top of my shirt and went downstairs to eat. I grabbed the plate of food that my mother made for me and began to eat. When everyone was finished I cleaned the dishes in hopes that my abuse would be over for the night. That night I dreamt of the event that happened that day. The pain and suffering that I endured. I tossed and turned all night. My bed became very uncomfortable after that day. I chose to sleep with no sheet that were on there during the disgusting events that happened only a few hours before.
