random stories

smiling

Warning: abuse

There the young girl sat, smiling. The girl was only about twelve, going to school and trying her hardest. She had pretty blonde locks that rolled down her shoulders. Beautiful icy blue eyes, cold and calculating. Her skin was pale and fair, she was truly stunning and anyone could agree.

Who wouldn't love this walking beauty? Well, obviously her parent. Nadia is her name and she came from a troubled home. Her mother had left her father for another, wealthier man when she was six years old. At first, it was fine. She didn't have her mom but she didn't like her anyways. Then, it grew bad. Really bad. After six months of her missing mother, Nadia's drunken father began to take his sadness out on poor little Nadia.

Nadia, being the young innocent girl she was, was confused. Why was daddy suddenly so mean? Why did daddy hit her? She didn't know, didn't tell. She just went to school. As the years went on, she began to realize what was going on. Her dad hated her, she looked like her mom. She was a painful reminder that her mother was gone. Unfortunately for Nadia, it had gone on for too long. She was nine now, she didn't tell. She never told.

She was scared to. So, instead she wore longer sleeves and baggy hoodies. She allowed her face to become coated with make up she bought with the money she stole from her father. Thick, baggy jeans covered her legs. She didn't let any skin show, she was covered in bruises. Her dad became more and more of a monster each day, barely arising from bed to go to work. He just hit her, over and over.

Nadia didn't tell, no matter how many times she was hit Because she understood. Her father was just hurting, aching. Why tell when it wasn't her father who hurt her but instead the monster that replaced him when her mother left all those years ago?

When Nadia was eleven she formed rules, these were key to her survival. Be silent, girl. Don't let the monster hear you. Get up, get dressed, leave for school. Get good grades, don't let them grow suspicious. Come home, go upstairs, do your homework, cook dinner, await father's blistering hand. Of course, if Nadia fought it only ended worse. So she stayed still. She welcomed the pain.

Nadia is twelve now. Icy eyes, once bright and full of life, now fractured and breaking from the pressure. Even a diamond can only take so much. Her bruises are cover, like usual. Her friends are around her smiling. Yet she feels empty, numb. Like she doesn't belong, like she shouldn't be here. Waiting to go home. She should speak up, talk about her father. But she was afraid. She was a coward. So she stayed silent.

There the young girl sat, smiling.