Say you love me

One

POV:  TIVELLY

Chapter one: starting somewhere

Pain. Self-hate. Helpless. Hopeless. All the cliches of a depressing book, right?

Abusive tendencies inflicted on a person turns them from a happy young girl to a depressed one in a split second.

I have placed a mask over my face. A mask so perfect, not even my best friend could guess I hate my life. A mask so perfect, no cracks, no scratches, nothing wrong.

You hope they won't hurt you. You beg and plead they will stop. They won't. They won't ever stop.

You're a worthless, fat ugly cow. Broken and hated. No one will ever love you. No one can—a disgusting rat.

I place my fingertips on the black and purple bruise on my cheek. That would be another bruise to add to the collection of wounds on my body.

There's a feeling that takes over my mind and heart. It won't let me feel anything. It's the feeling that people call numb.

I move my hand to my collarbone, where there's another purple bruise painted on my pale skin.

I like to think that if my mother would have kept me that I would be happy.

How could a mother perfectly well off give away her second kid?

Maybe I just wasn't pretty enough?

Maybe I wasn't good enough?

No, it was not those reasons. I was given away for being a product of an affair my mother had. The illegitimate child whose mother never even held her.

How could a mother not recognize her own child? It was only ten years after birth when she asked me where my mom was.

My older and younger sister thought I was just a random kid. No, I'm your sister.

Why did I expect them to remember? They never even saw me. One of the hardest parts is that I attend the same school as my little sister, Kate. She's a sophomore, two years below me. My older sister, Alice, graduated three years ago.

I don't look like my mother or my sisters. They all have black hair and tan skin. I have hair so blonde it's almost white and my skin extremely pale. The only thing I have from her is my gray eyes.

I shake my head, clearing the thoughts away as I place my hands under the faucet.

I stare at the cold water that fills my hands. My eyes shut, and my hands raise, splashing my face with water.

I hopelessly look towards the small amount of concealer and foundation that I have left.

There will be only enough for a few more days. Today can't be one of those days; the bruises aren't that terrible anyways. I turn off the water, placing a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Get out of the bathroom, Tivelly!" Pheobe spits out my name like it's a bad taste in her mouth.

It is better for me that she's at the door and not Able. A sudden chill goes down my body as the image of him touching me fills my mind.

Anyone would think that my adopted mom would do something about her son. Well, those people are wrong.

She doesn't hit me as her husband, and twin children do. She doesn't molest me as her son does. She treats me like a slave, making me clean every inch of the house and running to her when she calls me.

The only one in this family who doesn't hurt me is the oldest child, Bexley Grace. She moved to college after being kicked out by Presley three years ago. She would always try to help me out, which is why Presley kicked her out. He can't stand anyone going against him.