Thank you @WritingGirly for the cover to the right or above, I love it! But I promised to keep the other one up sorry XD
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I was never a normal child, no one would be my friend and I didn't know why. So instead I found my own way. Maybe it had something to do with my family. We didn't have the same connection as the other kids did with their parents. My dad especially, he despised me. When we would go to town other kids would hold their dads hand but mine just glared at me and pushed me away when I would try. However my mum was a little better she would at least make an effort to be nice to me. It didn't work.
I've never had a family meal. Not even at Christmas. Dad would always go off into the study, mum would eat in the kitchen and I would be stuck in the dining room. I don't have any brothers or sisters so I was left alone in the darkness of my mind.
Over the years it became normal but I had often wondered if something was wrong. I had always felt like a burden just hovering in their shadows, never that important but never enough to forget. I constantly thought that dad wouldn't give a rat's ass if I died or disappeared. He has never even gotten me a birthday present. In fact he's never gotten me anything. At least mum would take me shopping for clothes, they were rich and she would make sure I had nice clothes.
I basically lived in the attic. Mum and dad would put all the unneeded stuff in my room. This meant I had a chest of drawers and a single bed. I didn't have any room to play in and I wasn't aloud outside unless someone was with me, but they were always 'busy' doing something else.
I would try to make friends and it used to work. Well, until they would come round to my house. My parents would ruin it. Dad would come in and beat me in front of them after me he would turn to them,
"If you come back it will happen to you!" that would scare them off for good. One time he even grabbed a knife and held it against my throat. He stated that if my 'friend' didn't leave then I would, if you catch my drift. In the end I decided against bringing people home. I also would never go round others because I was worried of what their parents would do to me.
I got pulled out of secondary school because I wasn't 'good' enough for school. I knew I was and I wanted to be a doctor. But that dream was crushed. My parents thought nothing of me. They thought I couldn't do anything. I'll just have to prove them wrong.
I trace a finger across the scar my dad placed upon me for my thirteenth birthday. What a dick. I remember it like it was yesterday.
I slowly make my way down stairs, I know I should be excited about my birthday but I can't seem to find it in me to make an effort. It's just like every other day. Nothing is different today, nothing changed yesterday and nothing will tomorrow. I don't even know why I'm still here. It's not like my family wants me, and I have no friends to help me out. As soon as I come of age I'm out of here.
I trail my hand across the wall as I amble into the kitchen to make breakfast for mum and dad. I turn on the hob and rifle through the cupboards looking for a frying pan to cook the bacon on.
Once I find one I place it back left and start searching for the oil. After I have placed some oil in the pan I walk to the other side of the kitchen to the fridge. I open the double doored monstrosity that is our fridge and take out one pack of bacon, 3 eggs and a carton of apple juice. I place them on the white, granite kitchen top and sprint over to the sink and drying rack to get the tongs. Dad will be up soon I need to have it ready. I race back over to the hob grabbing a rash of bacon I throw it into the pan. It starts to sizzle then the fat and oil begins to fly.
I rush around the room trying to set the table, collecting place mats and plates, glasses and cutlery, cleaning the island so that you are able to eat at it. I'm too busy dashing about to notice another presence within the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" booms a deep, toneless voice. A voice that I've grown to fear. My blood runs cold and I jump dropping the glass that was in my hand, spinning towards the owner of my nightmares. Father. The glass crashes to the black and white tiled floor creating an almighty 'SMASH'. I take a small step back before landing on my knees to pick it up.
A large hand wraps around my bicep and hauls me off the ground.
"What are you doing?" he asks again, screaming in my face and shaking me like a rag doll. He loosens his grip and I fall to the cold floor I take in a deep breath as I can feel some rushing out of me. He takes his overly large foot behind him only to bring it back towards my stomach. I gasp feeling the air rush out of my lungs.
"m-m-making yo-your breakf-f-fast" I stutter trying to catch my breath. I bring my hands to my stomach and clutch it. That's going to form a bruise and a half, I thought sullenly to myself. Now's not the time to wallow in pity I say before taking a deep breath and pushing myself of the floor. My torso aches intensely. Once, I'm on my feet I dust myself off and look up towards dad. He has a wicked smirk plastered on his grim face. What a disgusting man. He points to the floor and picks up a shard of glass. Oh lord hep me please, I pray silently.
"Sort it out!" he commands in an overly loud voice, I cringe away but do as is asked. I crouch in front of the sink to get the dust pan and brush. My torso was complaining heavily and I felt tears prick my eyes. NO! I shout to myself. I will not let this sick ba$tard have the joy of seeing my pain. I reach out grabbing what I need and shutting the cupboard door. I limp over to him with my eyes trained on the ground. Just as I'm about to start cleaning the mess up, I smell the bacon.
"Sh!t" I curse under my breath and I tumble over to the stove dropping my cleaning equipment. "This is not good." I mumble to myself. Dad stands by my side wearing a sinister smile before a dark, menacing sound erupts from his chest. Why is he laughing? I think myself. I reach around him to get the tongs that are on the left side or us.
He grabs my hand. Removing the tongs he whispers "Oh honey" he sighs "Where's the fun in that?" when I register what he has said I look upon him in fear; there is a crazed, demonic swirl in his eyes. I try to tug my hand away but he is too strong and I am too late. I scream in pain as my hand twitches in agony. I feel my knees buck as a torturous pain erupts in the tips of my fingers and licks its way up my arm. Tears stream down my face and black spots appear in my vision as I feel him remove my hand from the sizzling pan of oil. I cradle my singed hand to my chest and waddle over to the sink. I run the cold water and shove my hand under it.
A dark shadow looms over me and I feel something clamp onto my shoulder. I'm thrown away from the sink, my eyes all blurry from crying so much so that all I can see is a blackened figure coming towards me. I blink trying to come to my senses; instead I just made more of my vision get covered in the black spots. I take deep breaths, I can't seem to get enough air into my lungs, I clutch my chest with my right hand while my left twitches at my side. A hand attaches its self to my elbow and there is a sharp pain on my right upper arm.
The last thing I hear before rendering myself to the blackness is the figure muttering, "Worthless" over and over again.
Only when I came to did I realise why. They had carved 'worthless' in to my arm using a shard of glass. What a lovely birthday present from my oh so wonderful father.
I cringe away from the memory and continue to stuff my little belongings in to a back pack. Tonight is the night. Tonight I will leave this retched place for ever. I can't wait any longer. Today was my sixteenth birthday, I think I've waited long enough. It's time for me to grow some balls and man up. I prance over to the corner of the attic and lift the floor board. I remove the money and place it in to my bag. I only have £200, it's rather difficult to collect money in a house like this. They may be rich but they don't leave money lying about often and when they do they will know I've taken it. I sigh and walk down the steps to prepare dinner.
YOU ARE READING
Bullseye
Kurt AdamRebekka is on a journey of self discovery. As the Luna Queen she must protect all of her pack members and subjects from a war that is brewing. Her adoptive parents have come to finish what they started. After being a rouge for two years she meets h...