Imperfect Girl (On hold-Editing all drafts)

Chapter 1 - Mad House

Sophia POV:

I'm going crazy, I swear I am. Why does life do this to me? My vision was blurry. I realized I was sitting down in the dinning room with food in front of me with my mother.

I slowly turned my head to the window, the tree branches moving through the wind the bright moon shinning. It was already dark outside. I looked my mom as she had a disgusted expression on her face.

Her dead black eyes staring through my soul, her long silky black hair flowing down her back. She wore a dark blue dress that reached down her knees. I quickly looked back down at my food. She doesn't like when I waste her food.

I picked up the shiny silver spoon and looked at my reflection, even I could see the fear through my eyes as I trembled in my seat.

I put my spoon back down on the table and pushed the plate aside not wanting to eat. I started fiddling with my hands trying to distract myself.

There was this awkward silence I felt in the air, the clicking of the clock making me even more nervous. Her hands already formed into fists on the table.

The scarier thing about her is that she's very unpredictable, one minute she's happy treating me kindly next minute she's shoving me on the ground.

"Eat your fucking food!" She yelled, her voice echoing throughout the house.

I shivered in fear looking back down and quickly picked up my spoon with my trembling hands. My breath was heavy, my heart beating a million times per second. Sweat was already forming on my forehead.

Looking down at my plate, there was chicken with a little bit of rice. The smell of the food filled my nostrils. She doesn't even give me that much food in the first place. That's probably the reason why I'm underweight.

I slowly put a little rice on my spoon when a hand hit me hard on my face.

"Owch!"

The sound of the spoon rattled against the flor and my chair fell back. Adrenaline was running through my veins as I was laying on the cold wooden floor. I felt a burning sensation on my face, that is definitely gonna leave a mark. I felt myself slowly lift up as a hand hit my face pushing me back on the floor again.

Frustrated and through with all the things she does to me, I looked up at her with hatred burning through my eyes, breathing heavily. My hair was already a mess but I couldn't care less at this moment.

I accidentally said something I would of never thought I had the courage to say after all these years of abuse.

"I hate you," I whispered it so quietly that I didn't think she would hear me.

I sat there waiting for her next move putting my hand on my face where she hit me. She came at me forcefully grabbing my arms and dragging me into the hallway. She kept muttering words that I wasn't able to understand.

"Mom please no!" I yelled.

I struggled trying to get out from her tight grip. Kicking my legs against the floor. I was dragged out of the small kitchen and down the hallways, into the darkness.

She was going to take me to the dark basement again. I hate it there so cold, quiet and lonely. Why does she punish me like this? A mother is supposed to be kind and loving but she's the opposite of that. She's the devil.

I felt so hopeless that I stopped struggling and accepted my punishment. When did I become this weak? I should be getting help others but instead I just close my mouth shut. Was I afraid of what others would think of me?

I looked at the familiar white colored walls with marks and scratches. I noticed all of the pictures when I was younger was taken down.

I wish I was back to my younger days, so innocent and naïve. Before my dad died everything was perfect and I was happy. But now since he's gone all of that changed.