A Different Kind Of A Football Player

The Worse Summer Yet

When I was younger I worshipped my two big brothers, Nick and Axle Clash. Even though Nick and I were a eleven years apart we were the best of friends. Nick was the best student and all star athlete. He took me to every football practice and every game. He was always there for me. Or so I thought. Soon after high school he left for the army. After that thing started to go downhill fast. Two weeks after Nick left mom was diagnosed cancer. She died a year later. That's when Axle stepped up as a big brother. Like Nick we soon became inseparable. Me going to his football games and him going to mine. But it was his senior year and my freshman year. And that too would come to a end. A week after school ended he left for the merians. And dad started drinking more. The more he drunk the angrier he got.

But things started to change and not for the better. “Bella, come sit by your old man for a second.” He justered for me to sit on the couch next to him. When I sat down he started to play with my hair. It was super long and soft. I got it from my mom because she was a brunette, like me, and dad had black hair. But it was wavy like dads used to be when he was younger, now he cuts it super short. “I can't believe how grown you look.” I was tall like my brothers and father but got my luscious curves from my mom. But I don't know where I got my eyes from, they were grey like storm clouds. “You look so beautiful, Bella.” The hand that was playing with my hair was now under my chin. “Dad?” I questioned him not knowing what was gonna happen. Then suddenly his lips were on mine. He pushed me down till I was laying on the couch. I'd tried to get him off of me. I hit and scratch at him but it did nothing to make him stop. The hand at my waist started moving up my body. I couldn't let him touch me there. That's when I bit his lip so hard I could tasted his blood seeping through the gaps in my teeth. He screamed at me to let go but I didn't. He punched me in the stomach and I gasped in pain as I let go of his lip and roll onto the floor. I tried to get up and run to outside but he grabbed me by my neck and picked me up. “Bitch!” He screamed in my face and then back handed me so hard I saw stars. He then proceeded to throw me on the floor and kicked my in the ribs a couple of times before leaving the house to go to a bar and drink some more.

I was so confused and hurt. A father should never do that to his children. But he did. Again and again he would beat me. And each time I felt myself break a little. Then he found he could make the marks permit by putting out a lit cigarette on my body. After a month of this not stop abuse he barely hit me anymore. But one night I came home with my hair cut to my shoulders and a ring in my belly button. And he lost it. He grabbed my by the hair and threw me on the floor. He kicked me each time harder than the last. I was left lying on the floor gasping trying to catch my breath, when he grabbed an old-fashioned iron and set it in the fire. After a couple of seconds he pulled it out with a mitted hand. I tried to crawl away but he placed his foot on my butt and ripped the back of my shirt open and placed the hot iron in the middle of my back. Oh good I never felt anything like it. I screamed in agony. I could feel the layers of skin burning. But then I could smell my burning skin. “Now no guy will ever want to be with you. Your an ugly worthless piece of shit.” Then he lifted the iron and left. I needed to get somewhere safe. I slowly started to army crawl across the cold marble floor to my room. I was in so much pain by the time I crawled to my room I almost passed out. Now the tuff part. Closing and locking my door. Slowly and painfully I got to my knees. I cried out when I push the door closed. With hot tears of agony I reached to lock the door. But I fell onto my back and passed out. He doesn't beat me as often now.