Useless

Beaten

The front door slammed shut as a towering, vicious man departed. The small house, reeking of alcohol, shook as he left, bits of plaster raining down from the ceiling. Inside the run down home at the bottom of the stairwell, a young girl, no older than sixteen, lay crumpled in a pool of crimson and glass. Her chest heaved as an attempt to breathe, but each breath was painful. Dusty brown hair matted with dried blood fell onto her shoulders as she sat herself up. A sudden dizziness hit her, forcing her to grasp at the wooden steps to steady herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to compose herself. "Okay." She told herself. "Time to move."

Pulling herself to her feet, she dragged herself onto the stairs. Each stair step was slowing her pace, tiring her. The wooden boards beneath her feet groaned in protest with every step she took. Her hands were trembling, grasping at the railing as she felt blood trickle down her back, making her t-shirt stick to her skin. Stopping in the middle of the stairs, she gently swiped at her back. Sharp pain immediately shot through her spine making her exhale sharply, forcing a scream back down her throat. Wiping a bloodied hand on her worn out jeans, she continued up the stairs. Immediately upon reaching the top, her legs gave out. Catching herself, she leaned against the wall, willing her beaten muscles to work. Her breathing was raspy and shallow. Quick breaths were all she could manage, it hurt too much to breathe.

Finally, she forced herself forward, wavering every few steps to catch her breath. After a few minutes of ambling down the dark hallway, she reached her bathroom. The girl leaned into the door, forcing it ajar. It creaked open as she pressed into it, smearing it's white paint with blood. She turned into the yellow wall which was now smudged with red as she rested against it. Her hand slid down the closest wall, searching for the light switch. The bloodied hand print she left appeared vibrant against the chipped, yellow paint. After flipping the switch, the light flickered on.

The girl stumbled in front of the white, porcelain sink, grasping it to balance herself. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the sink, willing herself to look up into the mirror. Closing her eyes, the girl sighed and lifted her head. Tears burned the back of her eyes as she opened them. Her left eye was blackened and swollen, revealing only a small portion of her bloodshot eye. While her forehead was crusted with blood, cuts were scattered across her body and bruised finger marks were placed on her wrists and around her throat. She took a painful breath, her lungs filling with the scent of blood, sweat and cheap beer.

This wasn't the first time her uncle had beaten her, but it was the worst she had endured. His words came back to her as she winced in pain. They hurt almost as bad as the beating. The girl shook the memory from her head and tugged off her blood-soaked shirt, whimpering in pain as it pulled over the cuts, bruises, and possibly broken rib. Once the shirt was thrown to the side, she carefully examined herself. The girl's ribs were covered in blue bruises and there were cuts and scrapes from the broken bottle she had been hit with. Her back felt sticky and warm, she bit her lip as she remembered what happened. Slowly, the girl turned her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder to see. She immediately let out a broken hearted sob. Her hand reached up and touched the reddened carving in her back.The word "USELESS" was cut out in between her shoulder blades. The letters were big and crudely written, created with the glass from her uncle's broken beer bottle. Blood was oozing from the letters and dripping down her back.

"What did I do to deserve this?"