The Gang Leader's Street Fighter.

Chapter 1

Lexi's pov:

Pain shot from my lower back and thighs. A foot rammed down before drawing back and kicking me in my left rib.

"Wake up you lazy bitch" sprays of spit landed on my exposed shoulder followed by another kick.

I groaned in pain opening my eyes to see my father glaring down at me "Get up and make my breakfast" my body ached as I sat up.

I scrambled to my feet but the pain in my thighs had me falling back down again. I looked up at him not expecting any help so when he reached out I was surprised.

I smiled up at him reaching to grab his hand but he didn't return the smile he just stared at me blankly. His hand shot past mine and wrapped into my hair, my hand dropped down in shock and a smile rose upon his lips.

He dragged me to the kitchen slamming me down onto the counter leaving me to fall in a heap on the floor. My head hit the edge on my way down I held back a scream of pain as it spread across my face.

When he realized he wasn't getting anywhere he gave me one last hard kick to the ribs which I'm sure he had just broken, he then grabbed my hair lifting it so my head was angled up to his.

"Next time I won't be so kind. Now hurry up and make my food before-"

"Baby" her voice shrieked from upstairs followed by the obnoxious clicking of heels. Who but her would walk in heels- a death contraption at home, willingly?

My slunt of a mother came strutting in wearing her favorite jumpsuit and leather heel, she truly was stuck in an era all she needed now was the leather jacket. She looked at me and smirked before walking up to my father who then dropped, well more like threw me on the floor and started making out.

I tried to stand up but my body was aching all over but I wasn't just about to give up if I did I would have been dead long ago. Using the nearby step stool that was on the ground I lifted myself up onto the counter.

I shook my head everything was blurry and distorted. A hand came near my face I wanted to draw back but it was too late. I held my stinging cheek and looked up to see my stepmother smirking at me, tears pricked my eyes.

She slapped me again before speaking "Didn't I teach you how to say good morning to your elders" I wanted badly to tell her she wasn't even around most of my life but I bit my tongue

"S-sorry I-I d-didn't mea-" I stuttered my bleeding lip opening at every word I was about to continue when she slapped me again.

"I've told you not to interrupt me when I'm talking haven't I" she wasn't even talking anymore she just wanted to slap me  "Answer me"

I nodded. My throat was starting to dry out and burn. She was about to slap me again when my father took hold of her hand.

"Let's go have some fun she isn't worth your time" Mother looked at my father and then back to me

"Pack your shit when you finished making the food we are moving back to Los Angeles"

She looked at my shocked face before backing away and jumping on my father kissing him while undoing his buttons. Then they left all at the same time I could hear the making out. I let out a breath that I didn't even know I was holding and watched them disappear upstairs.

I grabbed the first aid kit and started to cool down the bruising that was starting to form all over my body. I winced in pain as I cleaned a nasty wound on my leg that had probably re-opened with this morning's beating.

I finished up stitching the wound close and started making food for my wonderful parents. When the food was done I went to my room which was really just an unused room with spiders and other insects as a company and a bed which was really an old mattress with the spring poking out. It was rather comfy despite the otherwise lack of care. Honesty, I couldn't complain as long as I had a roof over my head and clothes I will continue to live until I finally escape my parents.

I laid down on the bed and soon drifted off to sleep letting my body heal a bit before I start packing to move back to a place that holds so many memories. Where I call home no matter where I am, it will always be a place I love. A place where I can act free even if I'm not.