Beautiful Scars

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Most women my age, being almost twenty-one, are out starting careers, dating, living their lives. Not me. I still live at home with my father but I use the word live loosely. My father is an abusive alcoholic who only lets me out of my bedroom to cook for him and if I'm lucky, he'll let me have the leftovers, if there are any. Most nights there aren't. I am sitting in my room, on my bed, listening to my stomach growl while he's in there eating the meatloaf and mashed potatoes that I made for him. I walk to my bathroom and get a drink of water and hope that helps.

It's been a little bit and I know he's done eating because I can hear him walking towards my door. "Come clean this shit up." he tells me. I nod and walk past him and as I do, he shoves me and says "Now you stupid whore." I stumble before catching myself and rushing to the kitchen to clean up. Looking at the dishes, there's nothing left of the food. "Fed the leftovers to the dog." he tells me laughing. I don't respond, I turn towards the sink and start doing the dishes before he grabs a beer and heads to the living room.

I get the dishes done, and walk to the living room. "Anything else Daddy?" I ask. "No." he says simply before throwing his now empty beer bottle at me and barely misses me. I clean it up before bringing him another beer and heading to my room to hide.

The next morning, I wake up and sit in my room until Daddy calls for me. Sitting on my bed, I hear what sounds like the front door being kicked in and I run to the closet to hide. I hear gunshots and cover my mouth to muffle my screams. I try to stay quiet and then I hear people running through the house, doors opening and closing and then I hear them in my room and can hear things being tossed around.

All of a sudden, the closet door is jerked open and the man aims his gun at me. "Please don't." I beg as I back myself up against the back wall, sobbing. All of a sudden there's another man and he tells the first man to lower his gun. Walking into the closet, he kneels down in front of me but doesn't touch me. "What's your name sweetheart?" he asks. "Vanessa sir." I say softly, not looking up. "Do you live here?" he asks and I nod my head yes. The man stands up and I know who he is. He's tall, light beard, well dressed. It's Miguel Galindo. He steps back and I see him motion another man over. When the other man walks up, I see he's also well dressed and see that his hair is in two french braids and Mr Galilndo whispers something to him and he nods before walking away. Galindo turns back to me and asks "The man that lives here. Who is he to you?" he asks. "My father sir." I say softly. It's quiet for a minute before I whisper "Are you going to kill me?" He sighs. "No sweetheart. I'm not." he says before kneeling in front of me again. "How old are you?" he asks. "Twenty-One next week sir." I say. He stands up and holds out his hand. "Come on." he tells me and I look at his hand. "I won't hurt you." he assures me. I take his hand and he helps me up and leads me out of the closet.

Leading me to the bed, he tells me. "Sit down." I do as he says and see the man from before, with the braids, standing behind him. I look down at my hands and ask "What's going to happen to me?" He doesn't say anything at first and then my stomach growls again. "When was the last time you ate?" he asks and I don't answer. He kneels in front of me and asks again "When was the last time you ate little one?" I wipe the tear that falls and say "Couple of days ago." He shakes his head and I feel more tears fall. I wipe my eyes and Galindo tells the other man "Stay with her a minute." as he walks out of the room with his phone to his ear.

The man walks over and says kneels in front of me. "Are you okay little one?" I nod and say "Yes sir." He shakes his head. I cough and when I do, I wince. "Are you hurt?" he asks. I just shake my head no. He stands and I see Galindo come back in. He walks over to the one with the braids and says "Help her pack her things and take her to the house. Emily is having the doctor come and check her out." My head shoots up and I say "I'm okay. You don't have to worry. I won't say anything. I promise." I start to panic. Galindo goes to step towards me and I scramble back farther onto the bed, against the wall, "Please don't." I beg and start to sob again.

Galindo walks over to the door, and the man with the braids walks over. "Can I sit down?" he asks softly and I nod but don't move. He looks back at Galindo and nods and everyone clears out of the room but the one in front of me. He looks back at me and says "Vanessa, I'm Nestor. How long has your old man been hurting you?" he asks. I shake my head. "Sweetheart, I know you're hurt. We're going to take you to Miguel's house and his doctor is going to check you out but I need to get you packed up." I nod and he stands before holding out his hand. I look at his hand and when he sees I don't take it, he steps back, letting me off the bed and he asks "Where's your bag?" I don't speak but just point to the closet. He grabs it and puts it on the bed and I start grabbing clothes out of the drawers. I don't have much so there's nothing in the closet. The only thing it's used for is to lock me up when my dad gets pissed. Once everything is packed up. I go to lift it but Nestor stops me. "I'll get it." he tells me. "I can carry it." I tell him and he shakes his head and takes it from me. "I got it." he tells me and I nod. "Thank you." I whisper.

Walking out to the living room, I see Galindo hanging up his phone. He walks over to me and Nestor and asks "That all of her things?" Nestor nods and Galindo says "The rest of the guys will clean this up." I look over and see my father's body covered with a sheet. Nestor places his hand on the small of my back and I flinch and look away from my dad.

Walking outside, they lead me to an SUV and Nestor opens the door. "Get in little one." Galindo tells me. I keep my head down and slide in like he tells me to. He slides in behind me and Nestor puts my bag in the trunk and then gets in the driver seat. I sit quietly, with my hands in my lap, looking down at my hands and no one says anything the entire ride to our destination.