Chapter 1
I was crouched in a corner crying. I had my knees brought to my chest with my auburn hair falling around my face. I heard my daddy yelling at my stepmom in the room next mine in the small trailer we lived in. As I sat there crying I heard someone stomping down the hallway. Fear gripped me as I realized who it was. I pushed my frail, eight-year-old body against the wall, hoping that it would protect me somehow. The footsteps stopped in front of my door, and my door was slowly opened. In the hallway stood my daddy, 6’5”, brown hair, blue eyes, and mad as hell.
He smirked when he saw the fear etched in me. “Are you scared of me, baby?” he asked taking a step closer to me.
He always grew angry when I said yes so I shook my head no. His smirk grew and he took two steps and was already in front of me.
“You should be,” he whispered before he grabbed my hair.
Using my hair, he pulled me to my feet. I screamed in both pain and fear as he pulled through the trailer.
“Please stop, Daddy!” I screamed as we reached the kitchen.
“Oh my God! Why can't you just be quiet for once? I have to do this every time!” He grumbled grabbing some duct tape off the table.
He let go of my hair and quickly put a few pieces on my mouth. He grabbed my hair again and took me outside. Tears fell down my face as he took me to the back yard. As we reached a bush he shoved me down on the ground.
He dropped the hatchet, that was on a stump close by, next to me. He then kicked me and yelled,” Cut a switch! It better be a good one or I'll beat you ten times worse!”
With a trembling hand, I picked up the hatchet and started cutting one. Fear filled my frail, starved body as I cut my Daddy's weapon, so he could use against on his own child. I was just about done when I felt something hit my back. I let out muffled a scream of pain and fell to the ground. I turned my head when I saw stepmom handing my daddy a fishing pole.
“Great idea, babe,” Daddy said as he kissed her cheek.
My stepmom smirked down at me and turned around. I watched her proudly walk back towards the trailer. As I looked at the trailer I saw my little brother looking through a window. As I looked into his little blue eyes I realized that I needed to be strong for him. As long as Daddy beat me, he wouldn't hurt Julian.
“Get up!” Daddy yelled.
I closed my eyes and thought about my little brother in the window. Be strong, Lillian. This is for him. I pushed myself up and felt the pole strike my back. I screamed again but stayed on my hands and knees.
“Count!” He yelled as he hit me again.
With each strike I counted, my voice muffled by tape,” One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six!”
I counted to 20. By the time he was at 15 my arms would give out and I would have to push myself up again only to have Daddy hit me again. Pain filled my body from the places where the pole came in contact with my skin. I could feel blood trickle down my back. My shirt must be shredded because I could feel the cool wind hit my wounds.
“Get up on your feet!” He yelled hitting me one more time.
I used my frail arms and legs, and slowly got up. Daddy walked up to me and grabbed my hair. He pulled my head back so I was looking at him. He suddenly pressed a cool medal on my neck.
“I could kill you,” he whispered in my ear.
He tore the duct tape off my mouth and commanded,” Beg me not to kill you, my little flower.”
I swallowed and felt my body tremble as I whispered” Daddy please don't! I'll be good!”
He laughed in my ear and pressed the blade harder on my neck,” Louder!”
“Daddy please!”
I shot open my eyes and looked around. I was surrounded by darkness and in my bed. My body was still trembling in fear from the memory. I had several nights like this, waking up in fear and crying. I slowly got up and made my way over to my dresser. I opened my first drawer and dug around till I found my razor blade. I rolled up my shirt sleeve and placed the blade on my skin. As I cut I felt my fear leave, but it was replaced by the pain in my arm. With each cut, I became calmer.
As I was putting my razor blade in the drawer I heard a knock at my door. Frantically, I grabbed some tissues and placed them on my arm.
There was another knock and then Nick’s voice came through the door,” Are you okay, Lilly?”
I cleared my throat and said softly,” Yeah, I'm fine. Go back to sleep.”
Using my hair, he pulled me to my feet. I screamed in both pain and fear as he pulled through the trailer.
“Please stop, Daddy!” I screamed as we reached the kitchen.
“Oh my God! Why can't you just be quiet for once? I have to do this every time!” He grumbled grabbing some duct tape off the table.
He let go of my hair and quickly put a few pieces on my mouth. He grabbed my hair again and took me outside. Tears fell down my face as he took me to the back yard. As we reached a bush he shoved me down on the ground.
He dropped the hatchet, that was on a stump close by, next to me. He then kicked me and yelled,” Cut a switch! It better be a good one or I'll beat you ten times worse!”
With a trembling hand, I picked up the hatchet and started cutting one. Fear filled my frail, starved body as I cut my Daddy's weapon, so he could use against on his own child. I was just about done when I felt something hit my back. I let out muffled a scream of pain and fell to the ground. I turned my head when I saw stepmom handing my daddy a fishing pole.
“Great idea, babe,” Daddy said as he kissed her cheek.
My stepmom smirked down at me and turned around. I watched her proudly walk back towards the trailer. As I looked at the trailer I saw my little brother looking through a window. As I looked into his little blue eyes I realized that I needed to be strong for him. As long as Daddy beat me, he wouldn't hurt Julian.
“Get up!” Daddy yelled.
I closed my eyes and thought about my little brother in the window. Be strong, Lillian. This is for him. I pushed myself up and felt the pole strike my back. I screamed again but stayed on my hands and knees.
“Count!” He yelled as he hit me again.
With each strike I counted, my voice muffled by tape,” One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six!”
I counted to 20. By the time he was at 15 my arms would give out and I would have to push myself up again only to have Daddy hit me again. Pain filled my body from the places where the pole came in contact with my skin. I could feel blood trickle down my back. My shirt must be shredded because I could feel the cool wind hit my wounds.
“Get up on your feet!” He yelled hitting me one more time.
I used my frail arms and legs, and slowly got up. Daddy walked up to me and grabbed my hair. He pulled my head back so I was looking at him. He suddenly pressed a cool medal on my neck.
“I could kill you,” he whispered in my ear.
He tore the duct tape off my mouth and commanded,” Beg me not to kill you, my little flower.”
I swallowed and felt my body tremble as I whispered” Daddy please don't! I'll be good!”
He laughed in my ear and pressed the blade harder on my neck,” Louder!”
“Daddy please!”
I shot open my eyes and looked around. I was surrounded by darkness and in my bed. My body was still trembling in fear from the memory. I had several nights like this, waking up in fear and crying. I slowly got up and made my way over to my dresser. I opened my first drawer and dug around till I found my razor blade. I rolled up my shirt sleeve and placed the blade on my skin. As I cut I felt my fear leave, but it was replaced by the pain in my arm. With each cut, I became calmer.
As I was putting my razor blade in the drawer I heard a knock at my door. Frantically, I grabbed some tissues and placed them on my arm.
There was another knock and then Nick’s voice came through the door,” Are you okay, Lilly?”
I cleared my throat and said softly,” Yeah, I'm fine. Go back to sleep.”
“Are you sure? I heard you scream,” he said.
“Just another nightmare.”
“What was this one about?”
Each time I have a nightmare I will usually tell Nick about it, but I didn't know if he could handle this one.
“I don't think you really want to know,” I said going by the door and sitting down.
“If it helps you then I want to know,” he responded quietly.
“This one was really bad. My dad was making me count each time he would hit me,” I said in a shaky voice.
“You've had memories of that before. What made this one so bad?”
“After he got done hitting me, he put a knife to my throat and made me beg to not be killed,” I said as new tears fell.
“Oh God, Lilly. I'm so sorry. Do you want me to come in?”
“No, no. I'm fine,” I replied my voice trembling with the rest of my body.
“I wish you never had to go through that.”
“Well I did, and there is nothing you can do about it,” I said sharply.
“Stop it! Stop trying to push me away! I may be your stepbrother, but I care about more than any other person in this house.”
“I know that, and I'm sorry! I just don't want you to start thinking that I'm a burden.”
“That's it I'm coming in!”
Nick opened the door and sat beside me. He looked down and saw the tissue placed on my arm. He harshly grabbed my arm and took the tissue off.
“Jesus Christ, Lilly. This is bad. Come on let's go get you cleaned up,” he whispered as he helped me up.
Nick was the only person who knew that I cut. Not even my best friends knew. He found out on accident. I was in my room cutting a few months ago when he walked in. At first, he said he was going to tell my mom, but after a little convincing he decided against it. Now I just cut, and if he sees it he will help me clean it up. I try my best to hide my cuts, but he always finds them.
As we reached the bathroom he made me sit on edge of the counter while he cleaned my arms. It took him about ten minutes before he finished.
“Just another nightmare.”
“What was this one about?”
Each time I have a nightmare I will usually tell Nick about it, but I didn't know if he could handle this one.
“I don't think you really want to know,” I said going by the door and sitting down.
“If it helps you then I want to know,” he responded quietly.
“This one was really bad. My dad was making me count each time he would hit me,” I said in a shaky voice.
“You've had memories of that before. What made this one so bad?”
“After he got done hitting me, he put a knife to my throat and made me beg to not be killed,” I said as new tears fell.
“Oh God, Lilly. I'm so sorry. Do you want me to come in?”
“No, no. I'm fine,” I replied my voice trembling with the rest of my body.
“I wish you never had to go through that.”
“Well I did, and there is nothing you can do about it,” I said sharply.
“Stop it! Stop trying to push me away! I may be your stepbrother, but I care about more than any other person in this house.”
“I know that, and I'm sorry! I just don't want you to start thinking that I'm a burden.”
“That's it I'm coming in!”
Nick opened the door and sat beside me. He looked down and saw the tissue placed on my arm. He harshly grabbed my arm and took the tissue off.
“Jesus Christ, Lilly. This is bad. Come on let's go get you cleaned up,” he whispered as he helped me up.
Nick was the only person who knew that I cut. Not even my best friends knew. He found out on accident. I was in my room cutting a few months ago when he walked in. At first, he said he was going to tell my mom, but after a little convincing he decided against it. Now I just cut, and if he sees it he will help me clean it up. I try my best to hide my cuts, but he always finds them.
As we reached the bathroom he made me sit on edge of the counter while he cleaned my arms. It took him about ten minutes before he finished.
It's soooo sad of what happened, I would also wanna kill myself if that happened, Well it already did happen to me but, it's not the same.
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