Mend My Voice

Chapter One

  Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Quayle thought, as she was on the floor as the person she's supposed to call 'dad' kicks her back mercilessly.

Ever since her dad found her mental illnesses and anxiety, he became more abusive. That obviously didn't help in the mental department, or the physical department either for that matter.

"WHY COULDN'T I JUST HAVE A NORMAL CHILD! YOU'RE A WORTHLESS, INSIGNIFICANT WASTE OF SPACE!" her dad yelled and screamed more insults at her, as she fought back tears that were threatening to flow down her cheeks in waterfalls.

He picked her up by her unkempt hair and spit her face before throwing her to the wall.

"Leave! Get out of my sight, before I change my mind."

Quayle got up and made her way up the stairs as quickly as she could. She limped her way her bathroom and locked the door. She sunk to the floor and let out her tears, without a sound, for fear her father would hear. She stood up and opened the drawers in search of her blade. Eventually, she found it and sat down on the floor again.

She lifted up her shirt, leaving her stomach exposed to the cool air. She stared at it for a minute, reading the scarred and scratched words that littered her petite figure. 'Worthless', 'stupid', 'dumb', 'ugly', 'alone', etc. She searched for an empty space to make a new cut. She found one and started her handiwork.

"I. N. S."

Why are S's always difficult. Almost as hard as O's.

"I. G. N. I."

Almost done. Just a few more letters. Quayle winced in pain as she watched the blood spill from her stomach. She kept going.

"F. I. C. A. N. T."

She continued watching the blood pool out. After a few seconds, she winced as she got up. She stripped out of her clothes and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Disgusting. She thought as she stepped into the shower, turning the water to its highest.

She washed the blood off of her body, flinching at the temperature but not bothering to turn it down. After her shower, she turned the water off, gathered her clothes, and wrapped her towel around her frame before quickly and silently making her way to her room and locking the door behind her.

She put her clothes in her basket, before getting into her pajamas, not bothering to bandage her cuts or her bruises. She got out her phone, scrolled through her contacts list, stopping when she got to the name she was looking for. She pressed Kyle's name and saw a message pop up as she was about to start texting him.

K: Hey

Q: Hey I was just about to text you

K: Ha beat ya to it

Q: Yeah guess you did

K: How are you

Quayle stares at her phone. He's my best friend, I can trust him, right? No, you can't he'll just leave you, just like your mom did.  Quayle flinched at the memory of her mother and felt her eyes water a little. I definitely can't tell him.

Q: I'm fine you

K: I'm okay.

K: Do you want to come over tomorrow

Q: I don't know. It'll have to be a short time. You know my dad is really strict.

K: That's okay my mom really wanted to see you again. We never hang out after school anymore

Q: I know I'm sorry...

K: It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow 😊 goodnight

Q: Goodnight 😊

As she put her phone down, she started thinking about how she's such a disappointment to everyone and how Kyle would never accept her with all her problems and would leave her alone to deal with everything by herself. She fell asleep with tears streaming down her face thinking one thing: He's gonna leave me, just like mom did...