It was dark at night, and I was in my room. The moonlight shining through the crack of my curtains lit up the dark, black covered room I had. Looking over towards my clock (which read 2:37 AM), I caught a glimpse of my reflection. My under-eye bags were darker than usual, and my black eye made me look like a raccoon.
Just earlier that night, I had taken a blow for my sister. She was crying, as most 2 year olds do, and my dad was about to go in to her room and beat her half to death, yelling and cursing about how if she didn't shut up, he'd have to bury a body in our back yard. Being 6, I grew up how my sister did, only thing is, I didn't have someone to protect me from the constant beatings. That's why my body is riddled in scars, from when he pulled a knife on me when I was younger. My mother was usually too high to realize what was happening, and I'm surprised she never overdosed.
Sighing, I got up and opened my door quietly, ready to sneak out to my safe space. Closing my door gently behind me, I tip-toed down the dark brown steps of my house, looking into the living room. I saw the TV was on, but my dad had passed out on the couch, and my mother was asleep on the kitchen floor, as I had noticed during my beating earlier that night. I crept towards the back door, and silently opened it, just enough for me to slip through without causing too much of a breeze in the house. Careful of my footing, I walked down the steps, of the porch, and when my bare foot met the grass, I dashed through the backyard into the woods. Quickly and stealthily, I followed the moonlit path, leading me to the most beautiful place in the world; the pond.
It wasn't like any other pond I'd ever seen, this one was clear and the water was always nice and warm, but still just cool enough to be refreshing on a nice summer day. Sitting on the dock, I let my feet be free and fall into the water, swishing them around and finally feeling happy. It was only at this place I felt like I was safe; away from the constant beatings and name calling, away from the overwhelming smell of alcohol and smoke. But most of all, I loved going there because I could sit and recollect myself, asking myself questions knowing that my grandma would send me in the right direction. That pond was my grandma's favorite place to be before she passed away. We would always visit together whenever she came over to babysit my sister and I when my parents left the house together, which was rare considering they always fought. Though they did leave the house at the same time quite often. I vividly remember how young my grandma looked, her beautiful black hair shimmering in the sunlight , just like mine. Her beautiful bright blue eyes that reflected every emotion she felt. I had blue eyes too, but mine were nothing like hers. Mine were pale and sad, and all they showed was pain and inner turmoil. My younger sister, however, had blonde hair, like my poor excuse for a father, and green eyes, like my hideous stoner mom. I considered myself blessed to look almost half as beautiful as my grandma, but it caused a lot of trouble for me. My drunken dad would always mistake me for her and he'd yell at me as though I were his mother-in-law, saying that I was an ugly old hag and that I needed to get out of his house before he beat me like he did his children. Needless to say, I got hit way more than Catelynn would if I wasn't taking the blows for her.
After sitting there for quite some time, I begun to head home. Traveling through the woods and reaching my backyard, I looked into the living room only to see that my dad was still there, passed out on the couch. I used that to my advantage and slipped back into the house and closed the door as quietly as I could, considering he was stirring awake. I rushed silently back up to my room and slipped in, closing the door and pressing my back against it, letting out a sigh of relief. I slipped back into my bed and got comfy under the covers, looking over at my clock and seeing that it was 3:56 AM. My eyes widened in shock realizing how long I'd been out of the house for without getting caught. Allowing a small smile to creep up onto my face, I nuzzled my face into my pillow and drifted off, dreaming of having a normal, functional, and happy family, where I never got beat or abused.
Only thing is; I woke up the next morning determined to make it a reality.
YOU ARE READING
Every Rose Has Thorns
Teen FictionEverly has never lived like a normal girl. Her father is an abusive alcoholic, and her mom is a druggie and a smoker. Her younger sister, Catelynn had never been hurt by her father, because she always steps in and protects her. But what happens when...
