The story of my life (wattys2019)

Chapter 7

One week after my aggression, I became depressed and mentally troubled, I relived the horrible scene in my dream, the blond guy with his bloodshot eyes, grabbing me, hurting me, I screaming and crying at the top of my lungs but no one came not even the so-called God, I once worshiped. Why do innocent people suffer? Why does God allow all this on me? Why does God hate me? Heck! He doesn't exist, I always thought.

My life was slowly drowning, my hopes slowly faded. The only thing that brought temporary relief was my blood. After receiving a thorough beating from Anthony, I would crawl to my room, grab a razor, and cut, only then would I feel better.

Anthony grew harsh toward me, each moment I lived in that house was hell. He made me starve, he made me work after hitting me of course. He kept reminding me of how useless I was, he kept repeating his words, you're a terrible mistake, it's all your fault! ''You can't escape your fate!" Those words tore my heart apart, they brought more pain and grief to me than the beating.

When Anthony had had enough he did what he did...

I walked on the cold street of Miami hugging myself. Fat tears rolled down my cheeks blurring my vision as I recalled terrible souvenirs. I didn't care about the passerby that stared down at me in pity. Someone brushed past me, hitting my arm through the process. I winced more tears pouring out as I grabbed my burnt arm, the one Anthony burned a few days ago.

I remembered laying on my bed, facing my nightstand, tears sliding sideways into my hair wetting my pillow. I knew he would come, I knew he would hurt me but not the way he did. My eyes were becoming heavy, I tried blinking them, it only grew worse, I finally closed them knowing well that I'll shoot up screaming after five minutes or more.

I shriek when I feel my hair being pulled by someone, and when I say someone I mean Anthony.

"Get up!" He yelled, the smell of alcohol filtering my nose causing me to gag involuntarily. I was jerked out of the bed.

"W-what did I d-do?" I groaned in pain. He remain silent, pulling my head and I followed him. He realized my hair once we entered the laundry room when I noticed the plugged iron on the iron board. I gasped trying to run away, but he grabbed my left arm smashing it on the board while picking the hurt iron. It happened so fast I didn't have the time to plead. I screamed bloodymurderly when the iron came in contact with my already wounded wrist pressing further.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He yelled, before holding and pressing my neck, my scream of agony halted and I passed out.

There I was gripping my burnt sleeved covered arm crying silently to myself. After a long walk, I finally stood in front of the hellhole I called a house. The paint on the wall was fading and holes were everywhere on the wall. I took a deep long breath, I knew he was home, he got fired recently, so he'll be taking out his frustration on me. When I unlocked the door and walked in, I saw him sitting on the couch staring at the dark TV screen. I headed to the stairs but was stopped.

"Get here," He said in his hoarse voice, not looking away from the dark TV screen. I slowly walked and stood three feet away from him, waiting for the punches and kicks or worse.

"I have decided to restart my life," he said, not removing his stare from where it was. I gulped. "With the one I love," he finally looked up from the TV staring at me.

"Honey?" A voice called from the stairs, I snapped my head toward the stairs and saw a white brunet in a red robe, her stomach was swollen, she stared at me in disgust. "Uh, I suppose it is the thing you call a son." She said rudely and I froze. Anthony stood up wrapping his hand around her.

"As I was saying, I am starting a new life and I need to get rid of my old stuff to make room for a new one." He said. A tear escaped from my eyes despite my effort to keep it in. "I made a good deal with Mr. Frederick, he gave me a huge amount of money in exchange for you." He said and the woman smirked like the bitch she was."

"Y-you sold me," I said in a soft cracking voice.

"Not actually, but it is better than to kill you with my bare hands." He said she burst into laughter.

I remembered when mum said he was cheating on her, I guess she was referring to her. "Y-you destroy my family, you'll pay for it," I said looking up at the woman that immediately stopped laughing, Anthony was staring at me in a frown.

"I hate you!" I screamed to Tony who slapped me harshly, my head whipping to my right side, my hand flew to my red cheek as tears streamed down my face.

"You're a curse and a mistake, while the kid in her womb is wanted and desired, now go pack your stuff you're leaving to never return." I ran to my room slamming the door. I sank to the floor, my back resting on the door. I was unwanted, and a mistake, and now a slave. I kept repeating all the words he said to me in my mind. I stood up walking to the bathroom. I grabbed a blade, shut my eyes, and pressed the razor on my good wrist. I winced at the pain. But when I saw thick blood running to the hole in the sink, I was satisfied, I twisted the tap and water ran out washing my cut as I hissed from the pinch. I Peered up to look at the mirror hanging on the wall.

I saw a black fair kid, with red puffy eyes that had bags under them, with a busted lip, a red cheek, long black curled hair that seemed to be losing its vibrant dark color and he looked so small and ugly. This is not me, maybe a wicked imp standing in the mirror just to scare me, I thought.

What happened to the joyous little one I used to be? What have they done to me? I asked myself, from nowhere I heard a little voice from the back of my mind, "you're a mistake, a big and terrible mistake." I ran out of the bathroom sobbing, I wrapped my wrist in a hanky as tears streamed down my face. I angrily packed my stuff, including the little box wrapped with ribbons, the one mum gave me on the day of my birthday. I never had enough courage to open it. When I was done packing, I went to the living room with my suitcase. Just to be met with two guys, the first guy was tall and huge, he wore a black leather jacket his white T-shirt could be clearly seen since he didn't button up, the other guy was not as tall as the first but had muscles and his face was shaped in a frown, he had a black face cap on.

"Is this the boy?" The muscular guy demanded.

"Yes, you may take him, he is all yours," Anthony said with a smile.

"How could you marry a black woman, she will definitely give birth to a black nigger or gangster, is a good thing you're getting rid of him." The Jezebel woman said, staring at me in pure disgust like my skin was a sort of rag covered with crap.

"Take him, take him, I hate seeing such beings."

"Fucking Racist!" I barked!

The man with the leather jacket attempted to grab me, but I flinched away. He frowned, grabbing my wrist. I screamed out of pain. He was holding my bad wrist.

"Shut up!" He yelled pulling me out of the house as I sobbed and screamed, he ignored me pushing me roughly in the SUV. The other man with muscles and a cap, hopped in the front seat starting the engines of the car. The man in a leather jacket sat in the back seat with me. I was scared of bigger men or all men to be precise, you never know when they'll hurt you just because they are bigger than you.

I cringed to my seat, my body was touching the car door, and I sobbed. They were talking about some stuff like guns, ladies, money, drugs, and other mafia groups as we rode, each time they'll glance back at me and comment. "That's why I won't have kids," The guy with the cap said, his hands still on the wheel.

"I understand Jim, once you have a fucking kid your life is screwed, cries, screams, ughh! You can't have a life of your own." The guy sitting close to me said, by then my sobs had died down to sniffs.

"Just like this black kid here, his parents gave him away. I totally understand them, he can't stop crying, it's so annoying, Bill." The guy with the cap whose name was Jim said.

And the guy sitting close to me whose name was Bill started laughing. I stare at the window above my head with glossy eyes, I could only see the sky cause I was too small. I stood on my knees, so I could see the buildings and houses we passed. I wipe my eyes in order to see clearly. I remember looking through the window each time mama was giving me a ride, it was fascinating, the way I was moving so fast. Then the car stopped and I began freaking out.

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