The Nerd Diaries

Brielle lives in hell

>>Dean's POV>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Lights flashed outside my window. My ears were ringing and I heard yelling coming from outside the car. I was still in shock.

I almost crashed into a car.

Suzy and I could've been killed! The freakin' car drove on the wrong side of the road!

"Dean", Suzy called out in a soft tone. I snapped my head towards her and saw her rubbing her forehead. She moaned and groaned like she was in excruciating pain.

"Suzy! Are you okay", I asked while rubbing her soft cheeks with my thumb.

"I hit my head on the dashboard."

"I'm going to take you to the hospital. Don't worry."

I was just about to speed off when I realized the paparazzi were surrounding my car. I honked the horn. Some of them jumped but they all continued snapping photos of us. I really wanted to run them over but, a handsome guy like me would be someone's bitch in a minute in jail.

"Suzy, we have a problem", I said.

"Tell them to stop", groaned Suzy. I wished it was that simple. Paparazzi are not going to leave unless they get a response from you. It could either be a nice one or a bad one.

Well, let's get a move on, Dean.

I stuck my middle finger up and they all went wild. I lightly stepped on the gas pedal and the paparazzi departed.

Thank God.

"Hold on, Suzy. We're going to the hospital."

>>Brielle's POV>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Brielle! Bring your ass over here", yelled my father. I obeyed him like a fucking puppy. He was on his armchair, chugging down bottles of beer.

I sat on the floor because father says that bitches can't sit on couches. It doesn't make sense but, I have to do what he says or else he'll go crazy.

"Yes, father?" I asked.

He finished off his beer and threw it. It flew a couple inches away from my face. His aim is getting worse every day. I gulped and watched as his face grew red.

"You ungrateful bitch. Go pick it up!" he yelled.

"Yes, sir", I said as I sprung up from the floor and sprinted to the kitchen closet. I took out the broom and dust pan. I ran to the living room and swept up the shattered glass. I was going to dump it into the trash but he grabbed my arm. He took a sharp piece of glass and chuckled.

"This glass is going to teach you a lesson. And that lesson is to stop being a whore like your mother", he said. He stabbed the glass into my arm and I howled in pain. He kept it into my arm for a minute and slowly pulled it out. Tears rolled down my pink cheeks. He placed the glass back onto the dustpan and smacked my butt. "Get on, get!"

As I made my way to the trash can, I couldn't stop sniffling. I go through this every day but it still hurts. Every time he wacked me in the butt with a broom, slammed me up against the walls, dragged me across the floor by my ponytail- I cry. I'm the weakest human being on earth.

As I dump the glass out, I think about what happened at school with Natalie. Natalie is one of those perfect teenage girls with a luxurious life. She gets good grades, she's pretty, smart, and has the most nicest parents ever.

Everything I did to her I don't regret. She deserves to suffer like I do. At least when she's done school she can go hang out with her celebrity friends while I get my ass kicked by father.

Natalie is lucky.

I put the sweeping equipment back into the closet and ran to my room. The clock read seven o'clock so my mom will be coming home in five minutes.

"Ouch", I muttered as I squeezed the gash on my arm. I really needed to do something to hide it before mom comes home. She'll think I'm cutting myself even if I do tell her that father abuses me.. She's in denial.

Ever since I was little, she would always blame the cuts and bruises on me. I don't hate her. I think she's crazy, though.

I entered my bathroom and grabbed an ace bandage. I wrapped my forearm where the gash was and looked up. I saw myself in the mirror. My eyes were puffy, my nose was a cherry color, my cheeks were rosey- I was a mess.

"Hey, honey", sang a female voice coming from the living room. I quickly got into my bed and pulled the covers over me. I could hear my mom grunting as she climbed the stairs. My door creaked and heels clacked against my wooden floor.

"My sweet baby", she whispered. A tear fell from my eye, onto my pillow. Even though my mom let's me suffer through this bullshit, I could never hate her. She's my mom. I understand that she blames me because she doesn't want to believe that her child is being abused by the love of her life. But, I will never do the same with my kids. Especially my daughters.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

A/N

Did you guys expect Brielle's parents to be like that?

Did you even expect her to be abused?