Chapter 1

170 4 1
                                    

Cecelia's POV:

He dragged me by my hair into the 70's styled kitchen, slamming my head onto the checkered tiles.

"You're a worthless piece of shit!" He spat, kneeling down so I can hear him.

"You didn't do the dishes and now you get this!"

I just lay there letting the daily beating take place. My mother walked past the doorway only glancing in my direction. He kicked my sides and yelled insults.

This lasted for a little over an hour before he pushed me towards the sink and told me to do the dishes. My blonde hair covering my face in the process. I did as told, occasionally glancing at my reflection in the soapy water. My pale skin, almost blinding. I haven't been outside in ages. The fresh air, the sunshine, birds chirping, wind blowing; it all just seemed like a dream.

-Flashback-
July 25th, 2005.

I was outside playing on my swingset. My father is running up to me with a smile on his face. He picks me up, spinning me around in circles. It was my sixth birthday.

I was happy.

-End of Flashback-

Tears slowly ran down my face and into the water. My father started to abuse me after that birthday and I never knew why. My mother said it was the stress and alcohol, I don't believe her.

I glance up and look at my blonde, pale, dirty face. Looking in disgust, anger begins to build inside. All the kicks, all the hits, all the bloody noses, all the knock outs, all the tears, all the memories flushed down the toilet. It was over and done with. I'm over and done with. I can't do this anymore. I need to leave before I do something I'll regret. It may involve his or my death.

••••
By the time I was done with the dishes it was dark outside. I dried the last cup and placed it in the cabinet.

I quietly ran to my small room by the stairs. I open the creaky door, going straight for my closet grabbing the little clothing I had, and putting it into my old school bag.

I then ran to my small yet tolerable table and took out the ten dollars I have been saving for almost eight years. Stuffing that in my bag too, I look around my room to make sure I haven't forgotten anything.

I shut that creaky door one last time before I was free.

I quickly made a beeline for the door, when I heard a sweet and humble voice.

"Cecelia?"
---------------------------------------------

OOOOOOO!!!

CLIFFHANGER!!!!!

please don't hate this is one of my first stories :)

Updates every wednesday!!

Sweet Nothing  ×Ethan Dolan FanFic×Where stories live. Discover now