New! (Taehyung ff) No Time

Y/N's POV - Seven

Warning! This chapter is very heavy. If you are sensitive to abuse, cutting, knives, and/or suicidal thoughts please do not read.                                                                                                                                Thanks.

(The next day)

 I awoke, sweating intensely from a constant nightmare. One I had every night. It was so real. So powerful. I could still remember what happened..

I sat on my bed. My back facing the doorway. I was weeping heavily.
My father was throwing things around in the apartment. He had finally come home. He was drunk, and looking for me.
In fact he was so drunk that he forgot where my room was. This gave me time to squeeze under my bed frame and try to hold back my weeps. If he found me...I didn't know what he'd do this time.
"WHERE ARE YOU FLOWER!?" He shouted. The name had never been special to me. To little girls, such a name given by their father would fill them with warmth. But it wasn't this way with me. It chilled my bones. He called me that when he was intoxicated, and if he was about to beat me.
He entered the room, slamming my door against the wall. Leaving a hole going through the dry wall. He walked as if his legs had swords sticking out the bottom of his feet. His eyes blood shot. His breath heavy. And in his hand he carried a knife.
"Come out, and maybe I won't be so cruel." He mocked. Stay strong  Y/N, come on!
"I know where you are. Why must you hide my poisonous flower? There is no flower as strong as my flower. MY! She can kill away everything you ever loved. She can make you insane! Isn't that right my poisonous flower!?" He sounded as if his voice would break every last thing in ear shot. I started sweating heavily, I was shaking. I was shaking so hard I swear he could hear it.
"I can hear your fear, dear flower. It sounds lovely." After those agonizingly slow words he crouched down onto his hands and knees, peaked under...and smiled. I had never seen anything so chilling. So terrifying. It froze my blood. Stopped my brain. Time had stopped in this moment, and I was willing it to never move again. I was scared for his next move.
He reached for my arm, and grabbed it with so much force the bones were creaking and then yanked me out from under the bed. He pushed me onto my back and stood. He then stomped on my face. Causing my nose to break and my left eye to swell. Blood poured out of my face so fast I thought I was going to bleed out. My vision became blurry and my head ached so bad I wanted it all to end.
He then turned me over again, ripped off my pink t-shirt and gripped the kitchen knife.
"Let this mark remind you that you are my flower. And that you are a poison to the existence of this planet." He smirked. Then he started cutting. Deep painful streaks into my skin. I screamed so loud my lungs threatened to collapse. This screaming only made him happier. Made him believe he had power over the very thing that killed his soul.
When he had finished carving my skin, he somberly walked out of my room. Slamming the door behind. leaving behind a frightened, sickened child. Crying, exhausted. Thinking of where she screwed up and convincing herself that all she was was a screw up.

That dream felt real because it not only was a dream, but a memory. I was 9 years old. 9 years abused, 9 years parent less, 9 years confused. 9 years of regretting existence.
I sat up in bed, crying. Screaming inside my head. If I was such a screw up, why was I born? Why did I exist?
This was a constant thought of mine. I've been having this dream for 8 years. Every night. Finding no relief.
By the time that I had dried my eyes of tears my sheets were soaked, my eyes were red, and my whole body was numb. I never met my mother. So don't blame me when I say I feel no loss. I don't even feel a loss of my dad because he's just always been this way. The first mark on my body was not a kiss, but a scar when I was an infant. A reminder of the poison I was to the world. I didn't deserve happiness. I didn't deserve relief. I deserved pain. Just like my mom went through.
I walked lazily to the bathroom. Stepping inside without closing the door. I stepped into the shower in an attempt to wash away the pain. I turned the shower to full heat. Realizing that I couldn't even feel it.

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I must have been standing there for an hour. Starring at my reflection. Why was I so disgusting? A collection of scars gathered around my legs, arms, and back and there were even two on my face. Some were long, others shorts. Some were thick, and some were needle point thin. They were all reminders of the disruption I was to my father. To everyone.
I turned slighty, glancing at my right shoulder blade in the bathroom mirror. There was a large scar there. Bigger than the rest of my scars. They formed a flower. It wasn't beautiful. All it reminded me of was pain, and that I was branded.

A cow in a meadow. My opinion doesn't matter, I'm just there to please the humans - Or maybe just my father's drunk rages. This may make you wonder, "maybe he's okay when he's sober?" Well maybe. But he hasn't been fully sober in 17 years. No lie. I'm surprised his gut hasn't turned inside out. He's been in the hospital for his kidney's ten times.
You also may wonder if I'm suicidal, or if I cut or burn. The answer? No. Why? Because I have a father who can do all of that for me. He had put out cigars many times on my skin. He has whiped me, beat me, cut me, slashed me, you name it. Am I suicidal? No. I have thought about taking my own life. What the world would be like if I was no longer here. But I kept being pulled to one answer. There would be no change. Yeah of course Mina and Sana would mourn the loss of a friend, but I haven't actually made a mark on the world. Truth is I don't want to leave. I want to see where this rode takes me. Even if the rodes stretches father than one can imagine. I want to live out my life, and see who I was meant to be.