Shattered

Chapter 1

            Thunder rumbled in the distance as I sat on my windowsill watching the impending clouds drift ever closer with each rumble. Usually, thunderstorms frightened me, but not tonight. Tonight, I waited anxiously for it to arrive. I rarely ever waited for a storm to come, but when I did, I found them quite relaxing.
I looked down at the yard as lightning flashed and for a second, I was sure I saw a shadow standing just at the edge of the woods, but another flash of lightning revealed nothing.
The lack of sleep is really starting to get to me.
The sound of yelling made me turn my attention from the window and I sighed. My mother and father were at it again. They argued constantly, so much that I didn't even bother going down to break them up anymore. My father's voice seemed to shake the walls and was followed by the shrillness of my mother's voice that electrified the air.
Normally, I would crawl into bed and cover my head and ears with my pillow while I waited for the storm to abate, but after years of living with an abusive father who lashed out at anyone who had the balls to stand up to him, including me, and a mother who was on drugs, you eventually get use to a lot of things or in my case, find ways to cope.
I looked down at the sleeves that covered my arms before placing my hands over them. Even through the fabric of my shirt I could still feel the ugly scars that covered my arms. Scars that served as permanent reminders of my worse nights. Some were deeper than others and felt rougher, but they were nothing compared to the deepest one which happened to be the very first one I inflicted on myself. I ran my fingertips over it as the memory of that fateful night started to replay in my mind.
Flashback...
"October, honey, can you come downstairs for a moment? Daddy has a surprise for you!" my father's voice called from downstairs.
"Coming!" I shouted back as I skipped out of my room and down the stairs to the kitchen where he was waiting.
"There's my big girl!" he exclaimed picking me up and spinning me around before putting me back down.
"What's the surprise, daddy?" I asked looking around the kitchen for a gift. "You will get it very soon, but you can't tell mommy or your brother, okay? It's going to be our little secret, okay?"
I nodded and he smiled.
"Okay, don't worry, you will enjoy this," he said unzipping his pants.
I gasped when his erection burst free and he grabbed it before saying, "Do you want to touch it?"
I shook my head frantically and said, "No, I don't think I should do that."
"Don't worry, it's alright," he whispered stepping forward with his hand outstretched.
"I...I'm going to go up to my room now," I stammered turning to go to my room, but before I could, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him.
"Ow, daddy let go!" I shouted trying to get away from him, but he wasn't about to let go of me.
He threw me to the floor before pinning me down as he slowly slipped his hands underneath my little princess dress and up to my little cotton panties. He pulled them down to my ankles before reaching up and caressing my small developing breasts.
"Stop it, daddy! Just stop it!" I wailed, but he didn't.
His husky voice chuckled in my ear and his rough hands caressed my breasts harder and harder until they were sore.
"Calm down, honey," he whispered, the stench of beer, sweat, and cigarettes radiated off him and I struggled underneath him as a cry escaped my lips.
He laughed at my weak attempts to get away before saying, "Calm yourself. I am a natural at this."
I tried to scream as I felt his hands sliding down to my waist, but it was stuck at the back of my throat and all that came out was a small whimper. I froze when I felt his fingers parting my labia before slowly pushing their way inside. I felt tears spill down my cheeks and I tried to push him off, but the more I resisted, the harder he pushed.
It hurt.
For a moment I wondered if I was dreaming and thought about pinching myself, but if this wasn't enough to wake me then it wasn't a dream.
"Daddy, please stop! You're hurting me!" I cried.
He didn't answer and realizing that I wasn't going to win this battle, I gave up. What more could I do? Here I was just eight years old. There was no way I was going to be able to fight off a thirty-year old man. Maybe if I just lay still, he would get bored, but he didn't.
Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening made him freeze and I looked up to see my mother standing there with a look of horror and anger on her face.
"What the hell is going on here!?!" she demanded dropping her purse to the floor with a 'thud'.
"She seduced me," my father said getting up quickly.
"YOU BITCH!!" she cried seething with rage and looking down at me like some kind of rabid animal. "HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO YOUR FATHER!?! TO MY HUSBAND!!"
I sucked in a breath as I felt an overwhelming sense of relief that it was over, yet I was frightened. I didn't want to look up into my mother's eyes.
"ANSWER ME!!" she shrieked grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet before grabbing a handful of my hair and wrapping it around her fingers so that the tighter it became, the more it hurt.
"He...made me," I answered around the pain.
"NO!! I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!! YOUR FATHER WOULDN'T DO THAT!!"
"Mommy, please, I wouldn't lie to you about this," I begged feeling more hot tears spill down my cheeks.
She looked up at him and he grimaced before saying, "Are you really going to listen to her, honey? Some little brat that we didn't even plan to have in the first place?"
His words pierced straight through me leaving a deep wound and I stared at him in disbelief before looking up at my mother. Her face was full of hatred and before I could react, a cold slap stung my cheek.
"Mommy, why won't you believe me? I wouldn't make this up!" I wailed ignoring the stinging pain in my cheek.
"SHUT UP YOU LITTLE TRAMP!! YOU DISGUST ME!!" she snapped glaring at me. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!"
I opened my mouth to protest, but I quickly realized that there was really no point. I ran past her and up to my room before slamming the door and burying my face into my hands. I walked over to my bed and sat down on it before looking at my little nightstand where I kept my mermaid diary. I opened the drawer and reached for the book, but I stopped when I noticed my small pink handheld pencil sharpener. It was cracked in multiple places and the blade was sticking out of it.
Without thinking, I picked it up and examined it before running it along my arm. I winced as the blade effortlessly sliced through my skin like butter causing blood to pool before running down my arm. Normally I would cry at the sight of my own blood and from the stinging pain, but for some reason it felt good. The dull pain from the cut seemed to chase away all the other pain I felt and I smiled at the blade before putting it back in my drawer.
"You're my new best friend," I said before lying down on my bed and curling up in fetal position; not caring that I was still bleeding.
Hopefully I will bleed out and die in my sleep. Maybe then I won't have to deal with what my mother has in store for me. Tears spilled down my cheeks and I squeezed my eyes shut as I prayed for sleep that took forever to come.
End flashback...
Thunder clapped loudly overhead and a bolt of lightning carved through the dark sky, turning the pitch-black darkness into the brightness of day, but only for a split second. Rain began to fall with a vengeance, pelting the glass with so much relentless force, it was like the storm was trying to break through the glass. The wind howled loudly almost like a pack of wolves at least twenty strong.
The storm had finally arrived, but unfortunately, it did little to drown out the one accumulating downstairs and I frowned. The storm downstairs completely threw off the rhythm of the one outside and I grabbed my phone and earbuds off my dresser. I put my earbuds in and scrolled through my list of songs until I found the song I was looking for. My Demons by Starset, a song that helped me through even my worse times.
For a while, I hummed along with the song until my phone buzzed and I looked down to see my brother's name on the screen.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Hey little sis. I didn't wake you, did I?" he asked, his voice was tired.
"No, Matthew, you know I don't sleep much. Insomnia, remember?"
"It's hard not to remember that, October," he muttered. "You do manage to sleep sometimes though."
"I know, but not tonight. Especially with a raging storm outside and inside. The storm outside isn't really bothering me though. I find it quite relaxing," I said as another bolt of lightning snaked across the sky like a creature desperately trying to escape from the vicious bonds of the darkness holding it.
"What are they arguing about this time?" his voice was full of annoyance.
"Your guess is as good as mine," I muttered. "I couldn't care less about their stupid arguments anymore."
"You and I both. I should be home soon, if you don't mind, can you go down and let mom and dad know that I'm going to stop and get a bite to eat from McDonalds?" he asked.
"Sure."
"You don't have to if you don't want to get involved in the storm."
I heard a loud slam followed by my mother's shrill voice. A few seconds later, I heard my dad's blue pickup truck, which we called Old Blue, sputter to life before pulling out of the driveway.
"I don't have to face the storm, dad just left in a fit of rage," I said getting up and turning away from the window.
"Good, I will see you soon. I love you, October."
"I love you too, Matthew, be safe."
"I will."
I put my phone back in my pocket and gazed around my dark room before heading for the door. I walked down the long narrow hallway, which was lined with rows and rows of pictures that Matthew and I had taken when we were little, before walking down the stairs to the living room. The living room was spacious with a white swayed sofa, which wasn't an innovative idea to get in my opinion, but there was no way of knowing that our father would often pass out drunk on the chair and end up urinating or vomiting on it. There was a small coffee table in front of the chair that had been glued together countless times after he had gotten angry and smashed it, two end tables on each end of the sofa, matching lamps on each end table, which didn't work because of him cutting the wires, and a 48-inch flat screen television that had a huge pressure crack in it, also from him.
I walked into the kitchen, which was pretty much stainless steel. Everything was stainless steel. The fridge, stove, dishwasher, sink, microwave, and even the trashcan. The counters were granite and in the middle of the kitchen was a large oak dining table that had four matching chairs around it.
My mother, Denise, was sitting in one of the chairs with her head in her hands. She looked up as I walked in before burying her head back into her hands. She was once a very beautiful woman with long black hair that cascaded down her back like a black waterfall, caramel skin that glowed even in the dimmest light, light brown eyes, and thin lips that were rose petal soft. She was very curvy and got the attention of a lot of guys and women who saw her in public. She was the envy of everyone in our family, not only because of her job, but because of the clothes she wore, but now, looking at her, you wouldn't be able to tell any of that.
Her long black hair was now dyed blonde and was starting to fall out in clumps, her caramel skin was now full of breakouts and age spots, her brown eyes were now dull and red, and her rose petal soft lips were now visibly cracked and stained with dried blood, probably from my father hitting her. She was wearing a dirty white shirt with gray sweat pants that had holes in several places, night and day compared to her usual attire she used to wear. Her once curvy figure had now deteriorated into nothing but skin and bone, she had lost her job, and spent every bit of her money on alcohol. She was only thirty-eight years old, but looking at her, you would've thought she was in her late fifties.
"Matthew said he would be getting something to eat at McDonalds," I said opening the fridge.
"Why are you telling me?" she asked raising her head to glare at me.
"He told me to let you know," I answered opening the bottle of water and raising it to my lips.
"Okay, I know now. Why are you still here?" she demanded coldly. "I don't want to sit here and look at you. Just the sight of you makes me nauseous!"
I stared at her before saying, "Are you okay? I heard you arguing with dad."
"Why do you care if I'm okay? You didn't care how I felt when I walked in on you trying to seduce your father ten years ago!" she snapped, her face turning bright red. "You didn't care how I felt when you tried to pin the whole thing on your father! So why the hell do you give a damn about how I feel now?"
"Mom, I told you what happened that night and you chose to believe him over me. If you still don't believe me then that's on you," I said calmly.
She scoffed and said, "Of course I believed him. He's done more for me than you ever have. All you've done is try and seduce him, you disgusting little tramp!"
Her words stung and tears stung my eyes, but I fought to keep them from falling as I took another sip of water from my bottle.
"Get out of my sight! I'm tired of looking at your disgusting face!" she snapped.
I lowered the water bottle and walked by her. I paused and turned around to face her before saying, "I've done more for you than you think."
She laughed and I heard the chair slide across the floor. I turned to face her and grimaced from the sight of her rotten teeth and dark gums.
"Have you now? Name one thing you've done for me besides make me wish I aborted you," she said folding her arms across her chest.
If only you knew. I fake smile, I hide my scars, I don't talk to you so that you don't have to put up with the disgusting little tramp as you call me, and I pretend to be mentally stable when in all honesty, deep down inside I'm screaming and crying for help. Begging for death.
"Exactly, you can't even name one thing," she said still laughing. "Get out of my sight!"
I turned around and walked up the stairs and up to my room. Once I was back inside of my room, I closed the door and put my earbuds back in. I sat down on my bed before stretching out across it and gazing up at the ceiling. The thunder had stopped and the lightning finally died out, the only thing that remained was the rain. I turned the music back on, but oddly enough, I found myself not even listening to the music, but instead to the rain pelting against my window.
I took out my earbuds and placed them on the nightstand beside my bed before staring at the window. I had a love-hate relationship with rain. Loved it because it was always like a lullaby to me when I was younger that helped to wash away the horrible memories that invaded my head. Hated it now because it no longer washed away the memories, but more like egged them on.
Disgusting little tramp...
I turned to look at my nightstand before pulling open the drawer and reaching inside until I found what I was looking for. A tiny box that I kept my razors in. I opened the box and pulled out one of the razors before examining it.
I'm tired of looking at your disgusting face...
I took the razor and raked it along my arm. I watched my blood pool before putting the razor back in the box and putting the box back in the drawer. I pulled my sleeves down, lucky for me I was wearing a black shirt, and curled up into fetal position. Only then did I let the tears flow.

~O~

I opened my eyes to see that dim light was shining through my window and I looked at my phone to see that it was six thirty in the morning. Somehow, I had managed to fall asleep and get through the night.
I sat up and a knock sounded at my door.
"Come in," I muttered.
The door opened and Matthew walked in. He was tall with black messy hair, cream colored skin, green eyes, a goatee coupled with a five o'clock shadow, and a muscular build.
He was wearing his usual nighttime attire which consisted of a tank top, which was either white or black, and a pair of gray sweatpants. Though that was his usual attire, some nights he would ditch the tank top and go shirtless and other nights he would ditch both the pants and the tank and just wear his boxers.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked. "When I came home, mom was sleeping and I didn't want to wake her so I came up to check on you, but you were sleeping as well. I was glad to see you sleeping for a change."
"I don't even remember falling asleep," I admitted. "I'm shocked that I did."
He gave me a sympathetic look before saying, "It's okay, October. Hey, cheer up, at least you get to see your friends today."
"Is that so?" I asked walking over to my mirror and gazing at my visage.
I had long black hair that hung in my face, I was average height with a thin frame and brown eyes. I had full lips, caramel skin, and dark circles under my eyes from so many sleepless nights.
"Yes," he said staring at me. "What? Do you not like your friends anymore?"
I shrugged before saying, "It's not that, Matthew. It's just that they don't seem to understand me anymore."
"Well, what do you expect? You act like an emo all the time. No one understand emo people. Not even me. They probably think you cut yourself or write depressing poems. Lighten up. Your mood is always so dreary."
If only you knew the truth.
"I'll try to keep that in mind," I muttered as I pulled out my makeup kit along with my washcloth, toothbrush, and hair brush.
He eyed me for a long moment before saying, "October, you don't cut yourself, do you?"
"Of course not!" I snapped glaring at him. "Why would you ask me something like that?"
"I..." he trailed off. "I just worry about you, October. You used to be so pretty and happy-go-lucky and now you're..."
"I know, ugly and dreary," I finished his sentence.
I hear that every single day of my life.
"No! October, you are not ugly. You're just..." he trailed off when he noticed the look I had on my face. "October, you know I don't think you're ugly. I think you are very beautiful. You're just so dark and dreary and I can't understand why."
I turned to face him and raised one eyebrow before saying, "You really don't know why?"
He shook his head.
"Why don't you look around you when you go downstairs to start up Old Blue."
He raised one eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak, but I turned around and turned on the water.
"I don't even want to know what you mean by that, but I'm going to go warm up Old Blue, hurry up and get dressed. We don't want to be late," he said.
I scoffed and he glared.
"You don't want to be late? Driving Old Blue, we are most definitely going to be late. She's a piece of shit."
"Don't down talk her!" he snapped. "She gets us from point A to B."
"Barely," I grumbled.
He frowned before saying, "Just get ready."
I shrugged and started to brush my hair while I waited for him to get the truck started. After eight unsuccessful attempts to start up, it finally roared to life with enough noise to wake up the dead.
"Great after today we'll probably be walking from point A to B," I muttered as I finished getting dressed. "Come on, October, put your happy face on. You get to see all of your friends who don't even understand you today."
I groaned as I finished putting on my makeup to hide the dark circles.
This is going to be fun and by fun I mean a total disaster.