Forbidden

3

~Natalie's POV~

     When I walk into school the following day I am immediately pulled aside by my counselor.

     "Natalie, hi!" Mrs. Decnix exclaims. Mrs. Decnix has been with me all four years of high school and is constantly cheerful except for when the situation calls for her serious attention, which is quite often considering her line of work. She had gotten married two summers ago and you can still catch her staring at her ring.

     "Hello, Mrs. Decnix," I reply to her as she ushers me into her office.

     "So, how's life?" Mrs. Decnix asks, waiting for my normal answer,

    "It's been okay, but may I ask why I am here?" I thought they started checking in on seniors toward winter break, not at the beginning of the year.

     "Listen, Natalie," My eyes snapped to her attentive and serious ones. Oh no, had I done something wrong?

      "The other day, when the paramedic came in to check on you she noticed some scars on your back. She notified our staff and it is protocol to check on you. I'm afraid I need to look at your back," Mrs. Decnix eye's became soft by the end as she stood up and walked across the small room.

     My eyes widened and I let out a little oh, before turning around and slipping my sweater over my shoulders. "Mrs. Decnix, I...I assure you that they are noth...nothing. I'm just a...a bit clumsy sometimes." I chuckle nervously, "I used to climb a lot of trees and I wasn't too good at it,"

     Silence filled the room as I held my sweater in my hands, my mumbling seeming to just fall into nothingness. 

     "Natalie, you and I both know that isn't the truth," I turned to face Mrs. Decnix, not knowing what to say, just stumbling over my words without prevail. I slowly put my sweater back on again as I tried to find where to begin. Tears started to fill my eyes.

     I looked around the small room, taking in the white walls and dark lighting, looking at the multiple file cabinets and the extra seat next to me. I looked at the multiple magnets and decorations around the room, enjoying how Mrs. Decnix added personality to the rather bland room. I finally looked at the picture frame on her desk. The picture inside was of herself and Mr. Decnix beaming at the camera on their wedding day. They look so...happy. I had found where to start I guess. 

     "My... My mother was killed due...due to internal bleeding. The doctors...they had figured out it was because of a beating but they couldn't ask her since she was in...she was in a coma. So they turned to my father, and he...and he lied," I broke off letting out a sob, "He said that she had gone...gone out one night to get some groceries and was...and that she was beaten in one of the restrooms. That was eleven years ago," I sniffle, my mind flickering through fading memories of my mother. I look everything like her and nothing like Father. We both had wavy black hair, which she kept long while I short. We had the same build, the same nose, lips, nearly everything. Except I got Fathers eyes. We have the same amber eyes while mother had stunning blue ones.

     "I was too young and too wrapped up in my own daydreams to realize what was happening to her all that time. But I had soon found out,"

-

     When I got home there were two cars in my driveway, a police car, and a red honda accord. I could see through one of the house windows and saw that they were talking to Father. We had a normal looking house, the garden and yard were well tended to and the house itself is close to spotless on the inside. They wouldn't find any dirt on my father unless they went into the basement, and even then it would be hard since it was storage by day and torture room by night. 

     Stepping inside, I set my backpack on the stairs and greeted my father and the other people inside. There were two police officers and a woman dressed in office wear. They all stood up when I entered the living room.

      "Hello, I'm with Child Protection Services," The office woman grinned at me and I smiled at her, and mumbled a small hello. "You're Natalie Willings, correct?" I nodded. 

     "Well, now that my daughter's here, would anyone like something to drink?" My Fathers hand twitched at his side as he sat back down

      "I'm afraid we're on a tight schedule. We just need a quick look around the house and we'll be out of your hair. A pleasure to meet you," I nodded at the police officer and quickly took my backpack upstairs before starting dinner. 

      "Fucking worthless girl," Father spat at me once the officers were out of earshot. "You'll pay for this." I watched as he stalked off towards where the officers were. 

-

     "You told someone," He hissed in my ear, "You fucking told someone. Tell me, tell me what the fuck is going to happen to you," He yanked my hair back so hard that I became dizzy.

     "You...You said that...that I'll be punished beyond...that I'll be punished beyond recognition if...if I tell some...someone," I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut, hating the feeling of him touching my skin.

     "And that's what's going to happen,"

-

     Covering up the bruises on my body is normally easy, but after last night I knew I would have to use the concealer that Father gets me to make sure nobody is too suspicious. I woke up on time this morning and when I pulled myself to the mirror I winced. My eye was swollen even though I had put an ice pack on it and my lip was cut. The rest of my face was bruised along with my entire body. It was easy to cover those injuries, I just threw on some jeans and a long sleeve sweater. Most people just think it's my style so it works out okay.

     In order to conserve the concealer, I take a turtleneck sweater, loving the knitted feel of it. While Father is abusive, he doesn't want to be caught so he'll buy me nice things for the outside. Nice things to hide my pain, to hide my injuries. Putting my hair down is yet another trick that I use, even though it's on the shorter side. Anything can help to cover up a bad beating.

     In the end, I look decently normal. My outfit matched the rest of what I wear, my concealer and foundation blended in smoothly with my skin. The only things that would alert someone would be my split lip and puffy eye. Both of which I can just blame on myself, I bit my lip too hard, I wasn't paying attention and ran headfirst into a pole. 

     My every movement was taking more and more energy out from me, and I knew that the beating had taken a toll on me last night, but I didn't realize that it was this much. When I moved I felt sluggish and it took every ounce of self-control that I had mustered up over the years to not wince at the ache in every part of my body, to wince at the sharp pain shooting up my legs or the pounding that shook my head till I became dizzy. 

     But I knew I had to get to school, so I started my treck to the bus stop after making Father his precious breakfast. 

-
     I was wondering the halls like a ghost again, except this time I was changing my books. The extra weight of my books had taken even more of my body's energy and I could barely pay attention in my classes, not to mention how gym was utter torture. After lunch was probably the most attentive I was today, but that quickly wore off as I had to walk through the crowded halls. 

     I'm not sure how I'm going to survive through the night, Father had his coworkers coming over and I had to make dinner and make sure they got enough drinks. How am I supposed to do that if all I can think about is sleep? Before I realized it, the bell had rung signaling my next class. 

     Mr. Stugubs class.

     I am so screwed.

-

atumaton