Freedom

This contains sexual content and language that may not be suitable for all ages.

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~Chapter 1~ The first time~

I was eleven the first time he'd done it. A year that day, my mother had passed. Soundlessly in her sleep, or so they say. I wasn't the only person who knew that my father was the one who had wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed until the brightness in her eyes had left. Many people knew that it had been him, but in my small town, no one dared say a word that would stir something up.

It had been a year since my mother's death and a year of covering the bruises. The whole year, my father had taken the habit of coming home to take his frustration out on me. He would come through the door, drop his keys and go to the kitchen to start drinking. After a few beers, he would find me. "I'm home Shay." he would yell up the stairs. But I knew he was home. I always knew. He'd then start walking up the stairs, his feet heavy, dragging and stomping on each step. I knew by now what was to come. There was no way of stopping him. He would come into my room, ripping the door open. He had taken the locks and knobs off so that I had nowhere to run. "Hi Shayshay," he'd say nicely. "how was school?" I wanted to sit on his lap and melt into his arms the way I used to when i was little and tell him about my day, but I knew that I could never do that again. "G-g-good..." I'd stutter. "Don't be scared of your father Shayshay." he'd say sweetly. But i was and that sweetness in his tone would leave. "Now you look at your father when he's talking to you Shayna." As I looked up, I saw a man that wasn't my father anymore and i couldn't help but look away, even if I knew what would happen if I did. And it did happen, just like every other night. He hit me. Again and again until I lay on the floor, crumpled in a fatal position. Only after he left did I shed tears. And never did I say a word when he hit me.

After a full year of it, a year that my mother had passed, I knew that this time it would come harder than ever as I sat in my room waiting for him to come up the stairs. It took him longer than usual to come up the stairs and I knew by the number of times that I'd hear a bottle hit the floor, that it was because he was drinking more. Numbing himself more than usual to come deliver blow after blow. After a while, he finally did come up, ripping my door open, he grabbed me by the hair. "Get on the bed." he said, and I could smell the alcohol in his breath. Using his other hand, he took me by the top of the arm and made me look at him. The look of disgust in his eyes broke me. He let go of my hair and hit me hard in the face making me stumble onto my bed. He grumbled something but I couldn't hear over the pounding in my head. He then yelled something but I still couldn't make out the words. I felt a tugging on my pants and it was then that I realized what he was doing and all I could think of was why? I didn't understand. He ripped my pants off, looking like an animal. It was dark in my room but I could still make out certain things. He started touching me then, putting his hands on my bare legs, higher and higher, raking his fingers on the inside of my thighs until I felt blood trickle onto my bedspread. After a minute, he stopped and I was thankful that it was over. But then I heard something fall to the floor and only later would I realize that it was his belt buckle along with his jeans. He got on top of me and I knew that what he was doing wasn't right. I started fighting, kicking and scratching anything in reach. I could feel my underwear being ripped off. "Daddy no!" I cried. It had been the first time I'd said anything. But he kept winning, pinning my arms down until they were so sore they fell limply to my sides. "You're done now Shayna?" it sounded more like a statement then a question. I whimpered a yes and that's when he started. He spread my legs and positioned himself between them and I shut my eyes. I didn't know what he was going to do but I knew that whatever he did, he would make sure it hurt. I felt something thrust inside of me between my legs then and I screamed in pain into my pillow. Tears fell from my eyes as I felt raw. There was nothing more he could do to hurt me. I felt him go in and out of me and I knew what he was doing then. One of the stupid boys at school had talked about this. At eleven he already knew what sex was and he didn't mind telling all the other kids things they didn't need to know yet. But it didn't feel good like the boy had said it was supposed to feel. I felt sick. But my dad kept going. In and out. And I could feel the sweat from him dripping onto my naked legs and onto the t-shirt that he hadn't taken off of me. I could hear him panting and grunting. But he kept going faster. All I could do was lay there and hope he would be done soon. Finally after what felt like forever, I felt something shoot inside of me and I felt a burning sensation on the inside. I heard my father grunt one last time as he pulled out of me. He grabbed his clothes off the floor and walked out. I lay there in a ball and cried. The pain between my legs was far worse then any time he had hit me. That was the first time he'd done it and I knew that day that it wouldn't be the last.

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Ok first time I write on Wattpad! YAY! Hope this wasn't too bad for my first time.