Wounded Hearts (A Demi Lovato Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1

-Adeena's POV-

As we heard the front door lock open, from the kitchen where we sat, I saw my father's figure appear.

He was drunk judging by the way he walked and the sharp smell that hit my nose as he walked in.

When he was drunk, it was never good for both Elle and I. So we ran.

We ran up the creaky stairs and into our room. I looked around for a place to hide but all I could spot was the closet in the small room.

I locked the room door and ushered Elle into the closet, following her as she did and closing the door.

We hid in the tiny closet, the silent tears flowing down our cheeks.

"Shh, Elle, it's okay. We'll be okay, he won't find us" I said to my little sister, Eliena as she cried.

"Just don't make any noise okay?" I explained, wrapping my hand over her mouth and muffling her cries.

She nodded slowly and closing her eyes, held on to me.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?" I heard my dad yell for us.

His voice seemed close which scared me, making my anxiety build up.

Our breathing muffled and ragged, I could feel my heart beating faster by the second.

It was quiet for a while then-

BANG!

A loud noise erupted from our small room, signalling that my dad had broken our room door.

My body started shaking as I knew what was coming next. I couldn't breathe, like someone was choking me.

"Addy, addy, are you okay?" I heard Elle ask, her voice scared and timid.

Before I could say anything, my dad yelled again.

"COME OUT YOU BRATS!" my dad yelled, his voice slurred.

This only intensified my anxiety and now I couldn't focus on anything. I could feel myself profusely sweating and my hand getting wet with Elle's tears flowing down.

I could hear his footsteps come closer to the closet and I froze.

What happened next was what happened every day.

The closet door swung open and my dad dragged me out, grabbing my hair in his hands making me scream loudly.

"ELLE! RUN!" I shouted as he threw me down, my head hitting the bedside.

I winced in pain as I looked up at him in anger.

"WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO US?!" I yelled, crying loudly.

"BECAUSE YOU DESERVE IT!" he roared and kicked me in my stomach.

He continued kicking me, while I groaned out in pain. With each kick, my pain worsened while his anger increased. I felt helpless and weak.

Suddenly he stopped, and I looked up from the floor. He sipped on his vodka from the glass bottle he held in his hand.

I tried getting up, wincing as the horrendous pain in my stomach only increased.

His focus was on the alcohol and so I tried running out of the room when his hands grasped mine tightly.

"YOU WILL NOT GET AWAY FROM THIS!" he shouted.

I looked at his rage-filled eyes and felt the fear build up inside of me.

My body started shaking once again and my breathing became ragged.

He held the now empty bottle in his left hand and slapped me hard, throwing it violently on the ground, making the glass shatter and spread across the room.

I backed away, pulling my hand out of his tough grip. I bumped into the wall and soon knew there was no way out of this.

He punched me, kicked me and slapped me continuously. Taking his entire anger out on me, I felt used, and disgusted.

All while he hit me, I groaned and cried begging for him to stop but his eyes showed no love, no mercy.

"P-p-please s-s-s-t-op" I cried out making one last attempt, as I couldn't take it any longer.

Eventually he backed away, kicking me one last time and walking out of the room.

I slid down the wall, my entire body aching terribly. I wailed and groaned, sniffled and whimpered until I felt nothing.

"Addy" Elle said, her eyes widening as she saw me and the glass shattered on the floor.

I looked at her sadly as she ran towards me, dodging the glass pieces carefully.

She sat down next to me and hugged me close, her tears flowing down. We cried for hours, not knowing how to live with a father like ours.

Elle fell asleep, the exhaustion taking over her frail body. Although my body ached, I picked up her light body and laid her down on the bed, groaning as I did so.

I picked up the glass pieces carefully, throwing them into the bin.

When I walked into the washroom, I held up my shirt and found a large bruise forming. My face was red, a slap mark evident and a few cuts on my forehead. My head pounded, my hands and legs weak and my stomach growling with the lack of food.

I stepped into the shower, switching on the tap and letting the water cool me down like it always did. The cuts stung as the blood flowed down my forehead.

I washed my body, pangs of pain shooting through me as I moved. I weeped as I took a shower and sat in the wet area feeling numb and broken.

I was only 13, but the suicidal thoughts in my head had started since I was 10 when my dad had started hitting me, using me as a way to deal with his anger.

I didn't sleep that night, just whimpered, prayed to God to somehow send my mom back to us knowing very well that that wasn't possible. She was long gone, we only had her for a few years before she was taken away by cancer. My dad blamed us for her death and that's why he abused us.

There wasn't much I had in my life but one thing I was glad for was Eliena. She was all I had and I knew I had to live for her, if not for myself.

I wanted to be the best sister to her and show her that I loved her and I would take care of her. I needed her to know that I would be there for her because she was way too young to deal with and witness the shit my dad was putting us through.

We were both young to struggle so much, and although we were just 13 and 8 years old, we were already broken and sad.
-
Hi, I'm Adeena Grace Harris. Welcome to my shitty life.
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Stay strong always❤