Annabelle

Chapter 1: Abused

I woke up that morning still drunk from the last. Drinking is the only thing that physically gets me through the day, it helps me take the hits I receive daily from my father. When my mom died due to a horrible car reck he blamed me for it.

I am 17 now, she died when I was just 8. I have long blonde hair down to my butt and big bright green eyes like my mother. I am 5'3 and weigh 100 pounds.

They were arguing that morning and she left to come get me from my old friends house. She never made it. Ever since then I've been slapped, hit, cut, spit on, kicked. All forms of abuse because of his stupid mistakes.

I turn 18 in a week and that's when I'm going to leave, my mom left me a box with about $800 in it. I have a job so I've also been saving up from that. So far I've saved up $1,600 it might not get me far but it'll at least get me a bus ticket and a hotel room. I'll figure out the rest from there.

When I went downstairs that morning I heard him screaming my name from the kitchen. 

"Oh Annabelle, come make your papa some food." He was drunk, when he's drunk me slurs and acts nice. When I got into the kitchen he pushed me down. See I told you "acts nice."

"What took you so long bitch?" He slurred and spit in my face.

"I'm sorry."

"You're always sorry aren't you. At this rate you won't make it to your 18th birthday. You better straighten up missy." He said laughing evilly and walking away.

I didn't cry though. I haven't cried since my moms funeral. All pain turned numb after that day. I guess it's better that way though. I went upstairs to my room and took some headache medicine, it's going to be a long day. I finished my last bottle of Hennessy last night.

I went back downstairs to cook Ben, my father, some breakfasts. If I don't then the beatings are worse.

He hit my across the back of the head when he came into the kitchen but I didn't say anything. I've learned the hard way to keep my mouth shut.

I sat his plate down in front of him and walked to my room. He doesn't like seeing me while he's eating, says it ruins his appetite.

After about 3 hours of reading I go back downstairs and clean up his mess. A plate slipped out of my hands and shattered at my feet. Glass went flying but luckily I wasn't hurt, at least not for that second. Ben came running into the kitchen, looked at the broken plate, then looked at me with pure rage in his eyes.

He came up to me grabbed my hair and pulled me to the basement. He threw me on the ground and took off his belt.

1 slash

2 slash

3 slash

4 slash

5 slash....

20 slash. After that I fainted.

I woke up not remembering anything.

"What happened?" I asked myself. And then I moved. It was like there was a knife stuck in my back. I touched my back and when I went to look at my hand all there was was red. My shirt was torn and I could hardly move.

I crawled up the stairs trying to be as quiet as possible. I slowly went up to my room holding back the screams that were threatening to leave my mouth. When I got to my room I went into the bathroom in my room and turned on the bath. I let it fill up and slowly climbed into it.

I let out a quiet yelp. It's like I just laid in fire but I knew it would help. Not even 2 minutes later my bath water was completely red. I turned on the shower head and washed all the blood off it continued to bleed so I knew it was hopeless until I stitched it up.

I got back out let the bloody water out and went to the cabinet to grab the first aid. After 2 hours of stitching my back up I left it alone for the night. I laid in the floor on my belly and just laid there. Not moving, not crying, just laid there with my eyes opened and my body aching. I slowly started to drift off to my safe place.

When I woke up that morning it was Monday, Ben had work till 6 so I decided to stay home from school. I cleaned myself up and went back to sleep.

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A/N

Okay guys first chapter! Good, bad? I need honest opinions.

~S❤️