After I was finished cleaning up, my dad came home, and found out that I wasn't on the floor where he had left me. He started to look for me all around the house, so I hid in the shower. I closed the curtain, and hoped he wouldn't find me. I was still beaten up from last time he beat me. I wouldn't be able to go through another beating like that in my condition. Half of me wanted me to get caught, so maybe, just maybe he could kill me. But the other half of me knew that no matter how much he wanted to kill me, or how much I wanted him to, he wouldn't, just so he could make me suffer. He came into the bathroom, and didn't see methe first time he checked. He came in another time a couple minutes later, and checked behind the shower curtain to find me curled up in a ball, lying on the floor of the bathtub.
He picked me up by my arm, and said, "Why were you trying to hide from me, you little bitch?"
I could definitely tell that he had been out drinking because he breath reeked of alcohol. "I didn't know it was you!" I denied.
"I'm sure you didn't," he said sarcastically, and threw me back down again. "Why were you trying to bandage yourself up?"
"Because, I didn't want to end up bleeding to death," I answered truthfully.
"Well, at least you're a little smart. I wouldn't want you dying either," he said. "You better not have been just bandaging yourself up, just for attention!" He picked me up again, but this time by the throat.
"I wasn't!" I gasped.
"Good girl." He threw me down against the floor, and I hit my head against the wall.
It gave me headache, but of course my dad didn't care. All he said was, "Go in the kitchen and fix me something! I'm hungry..."
"Fine..." I sighed.
"Don't give me any of your attitude, girl!" he yelled, and turned around to smack me.
"I'm sorry..." I sighed.
"You better be, now go fix me something to eat, damn it!" he yelled once again.
"Yes sir..." I stood up, and hurried to the kitchen to fix him a sandwich, as always. I fixed his sandwich and brought it to him, just like he told me to. He was sitting in his bed, watching T.V.
He grabbed the sandwich, and started wolfing it down. "Fix me another one!" he ordered, handing me the plate back.
I nodded my head, and went to make him another. I brought it to him, but he was asleep again. I set it down beside him, and went to my room. I started packing up one of my bags I had from being in some athletic thing. I packed it with a few pairs of clothes, then went to the kitchen and started packing the rest of it full with food that wouldn't spoil. I snuck into my dad's room, and grabbed his wallet out of his pants pocket. I threw it into the bag, and went back into my room. I opened up one of my windows, and quietly and slowly knocked the screen out of place. I grabbed the bag, and threw it onto the ground below my window. I jumped out after I threw it down, and I closed the window. I picked up the screen, and started putting it back on my window. I started to run down my driveway, when suddenly I heard my front door open. I stood frozen where I was standing. I heard my dad loading his gun, and I started backing back towards my room's window. I hid in the shadows, behind trees, and anything else I could find. I went past my window, and jumped the fence blocking my driveway from my backyard. I landed on my feet, and silently snuck to the back of my backyard. I jumped over the fence separating the alleyway from my backyard, and then I made a run for it...but I ran the wrong way. My dad was coming around the block to see if he could see me anywhere. I was looking behind me to see if he was following me. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, with a gunshot wound in my right shin. I clutched my shin in pain, and started crying. He came over to me, and kicked me to where I was on my side. He picked up the bag, and started rummaging through it, trying to find his wallet. He found it, then took my bag, and yelled at me, "Maybe this will teach you to ever steal from me or to run away ever again!" He walked back to our house, leaving me there, not able to walk.
Luckily, one of my neighbors heard the gun shot, and came running outside to see who was making all of the commotion. She asked me what had happened, but I didn't say anything. She called an ambulance to come and get me, and she stayed with me until they came for me. I passed out about the time they started loading me into the ambulance. The last thing I heard was my neighbor telling them that I wouldn't tell her what had happened, and that they needed to try to get it out of me. She had a hunch that it was my dad who did it, but she wasn't sure.
When I awoke the next day, a nurse was in my room with me. She smiled when I started coming to. She made me aware that my leg was perfectly fine now. They had taken the bullet out, and sewed my leg back up, giving me back the blood I had lost the night before.
"Now, tell me, dear. Do you recall what happened last night?" the nurse questioned me.
I stayed silent, and just looked away from her. She thought I was just thinking, trying to remember what happened, but I just wasn't going to tell her what had happened.
"Don't try too hard to remember," she said, and cupped my hand in hers. "We'll call your dad, and make sure he's aware of the situation.
I gulped, and nodded my head.
