Expected ~H.S

Daddy, Please stop.

I slide down the door, Letting the tears fall freely from my face.

I wouldn't break in front of Niall, Or anyone for the matter. I brake on my own time. When I'm all alone, With the tv turned up to a maximum to muffle the sobs. I jump on my bed and scream into my pillow, Kicking and thrashing at the mattress. But right now, I wasn't at home. Right now I didn't even have a home. The only thing disconnecting me and the man that just pissed me off to end, Was a door. A simple piece of wood, Not a thick piece, Either.

My hands trembled against my face as I let all my emotions slowly leak out of my eyes. The feeling felt familiar. It's no secret as to why, Though. I had done this all throughout my childhood, Or at least as far as I remember.

More tears threaten to leave my eyes as the memories replay in my head.

"Daddy, Please stop." I cry out, Trying to hold his hand back in mid air. I wasn't strong enough, That was Obvious, But I had to do something to try and stop my dad from striking my mom again.

It was mortifying to watch. My mother already had prominent bruises up and down her body from him, A black eye was surly to come if I didn't stop it.

I hadn't learned self defense, Hell I was only six. My brother was ten, But you didn't see him trying to help out. If anything, He was on my dad's side. It's seems even. Two females against two males, But it wasn't. My age was a huge disadvantage. My dad could beat my mother up without a problem. He was much stronger and the alcohol he usually consumed daily, Seemed to add on to the fury of the strength. My brother could pin me down with ease, Too, But he wasn't as bad as my father, By any means. He did slap me around purely for a good laugh and push me down the stairs just to inflict pain on me, And still he was nothing on the contrary to my father. He could kill if he tried.

"Darien," My father sneered." Get the bitch. Give her the punishment she needs."

My brother nodded, Seeming to understand what this 'Punishment' Was.

I start to stalk backwards toward the stairs, Scared out of my mind. Things have gotten out of hand before, But never this bad. I never really had to deal with punishment, I was just always the one that seemed to try and stop my moms.

"Come here," My brother growled, Reaching out taking a firm grasp of my arm. He yanked me away from the stairs and over to our Kitchen table, If you could even call it that anymore. My mother had been slammed down onto so many times, It was literally about to split in half. He shoved me down onto the tiny chair, Causing it to wobble back and forth. The whole dining room set was uneven. We weren't a very wealthy family, At all, So we just stuck to what we had.