Help Me, It Hurts

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Summary

The logical part of me reminded me of what all men are capable of; what they have done to me in the recent past. The foolish part of me wanted to do anything that I could to gain this man's affection. Abused and raped by her own family, her loved ones. She decides that she has to run away or be killed. So she ran. Eventually, she starts to put back the pieces of her spirit back together and makes the life she never dreamed that she could have. Of course, nothing goes as planned as friends she's trusted betray, and strangers she thought she could never trust, saves her. She thought she left behind her past, but what happens when her past comes crashing into her present? How much can one heart take before it finally breaks?

Genre:
Romance / Fantasy
Author:
jazzlin2014
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
13
Rating:
4.7 26 reviews
Age Rating:
16+

Chapter 1

I forced myself to get out of bed. Unfortunately, last night’s beating was a bad one in a long while...I try my best to do everything perfectly so I can avoid being beaten but I ended that streak last night when I messed everything up...

I was running down the sidewalk to make it home on time. I ended up getting held up by one of my teachers who wanted to check on me and make sure everything was okay at home. Of course, I lied and said everything was fine. I remembered what happened the last time I tried to get help from a teacher... Unfortunately, my teacher ended up engaging in a conversation with another colleague of hers and I had to wait an extra 20 minutes before the 20-minute conversation...

So here I was rushing to get home to attempt to make up for the loss of 40 minutes. I quickly pushed through the unlocked door and threw my stuff down to the ground before setting to work. Thankfully, father and mother aren’t home yet. I still have 3 hours and 20 minutes to finish everything before they and their ‘friends’ came. They expected to have a warm meal and a clean environment when they got here...quite ironic when they are anything but clean. I went ahead and prepared the meatloaf and greens before placing the meatloaf in the oven and the greens on the stove top. While they were cooking I began to clean the house from top to bottom. I knew if there was anything out of line or a speck of dust that I’d get a beating and I’ve avoided a beating for two weeks now. I’d like to keep the streak going.

It took about 2 hours to finish cleaning the house. I quickly washed my hands and took out the meatloaf- making sure it was fully cooked- before I quickly put together the batter for cornbread. I decided to simply use the box batter instead of making it from scratch and threw it in the oven. Running upstairs to my room, I managed to take a brief shower and throw on some black leggings with a hole in the upper thigh, a baggy sweater, and a pair of socks that always managed to slip off my feet. Running back downstairs and to the kitchen, I heard the front door open making me stiffen. I didn’t finish putting together the table! I heard many voices in the living room, but they didn’t come closer. I relaxed slightly. I have time to set the table and their plates before they come in here.

As quietly as I could I put the plates and silverware down, being sure that everything was straight. I then quickly placed the food on each plate, carefully proportioning everything equally. I relaxed when I suddenly remembered the corn bread. Oh no! I heard footsteps come towards the kitchen as well. I saw my parents entered and sat at the head of the table before everyone else sat down as well. My father looked at his food in disdain before turning to me.

“All you cooked was greens and meatloaf? We are grown men and women here! This isn’t going to fill us up, you stupid ignorant bitch!” He yelled as he slammed his fist on the table making me jump. I quickly bowed my head before mentioning there was cornbread as well.

“Well, why the fuck isn’t it on our plates?” He practically snarled at me. I jumped into action and ran to the oven before taking out the corn bread. Black smoke emitted from the supposedly cornbread. Oh no. “You can’t do anything right, can you? You’re pathetic! Can’t even cook a simple meal! The only thing you’re good for is laying on your back!” I could practically feel my parent’s friends smirk at his last statement. I didn’t realize my father had gotten up before I felt a powerful slap to my left cheek. “Men, I think my daughter needs a lesson.” I started sobbing. I knew what was coming. I hated them for what they did to me. I hated what I allowed for them to do to me. I was quickly grabbed and dragged to the living room where they all took turns beating and raping me.

I shivered as I thought about last night. I can’t seem to get the feeling of their hands off of me. I can’t get their scent off of me and it was driving me crazy. On the bright side, it was Saturday. I limped my way to the shower before trying once again to erase evidence of last night. The mirror showed a skinny 17 year-old-girl with black hair that ran down to my waist in dull raggedy ends and dull brown eyes. I honestly don’t know why I stay. I guess a part of me thinks that perhaps one day my parents will change and they’ll love me again. They will go to rehab and get clean and welcome me home with open arms. I’d be their little girl again and they’d be my loving parents. But they won’t.

After taking a long shower with no success of erasing last night, I quickly got dressed in another pair of leggings and a baggy t-shirt. I slowly got down on my knees and began to pray. I pray every day and night, even though I continue to be in pain. But, He did keep me alive and I guess that is all a pathetic person like me can ask for, right? After my prayer session, I set out to make breakfast for everyone, assuming their ‘friends’ would still be here after their weekly drug fest.

Quietly walking downstairs to not wake anyone, I made my way towards the kitchen when I heard voices. I was about to turn around and go back upstairs when I heard my name.

“That daughter of yours...Ally...she sure is something else eh?” One of my father’s friend said. I peaked around the corner to see that it was my father and one of his junkie friends named Buck.

“Mm, a good fuck but not good for much else” Father replied.

“How’d you like to go into business with me?” Buck asked.

“Buck, what kind of business could you possibly run? You ain’t go no money or ideas-”

“But I do! Your daughter. You said it yourself, she’s a good fuck. We can sell her! I heard people charge $250 per hour for people to fuck their clients, and they are old dried up prunes. Think about if we were to put a young one out on the market. We’d be set for life and have all the drugs that we can take without our hearts stopping.” My heart seemed to stop. Would my father do that? Would he really be willing to sell my body just for money?

“I don’t know about that.” I let out an inaudible sigh of relief. I knew my father wasn’t completely heartless. “But I do know a guy who has a profitable human trafficking ring going on. We can sell her to him for a very large sum of money and won’t have to deal with the mess of recruiting clients”. I was wrong. My father is completely heartless.

“Wanna get a morning dose in?” Buck asked my father, probably talking about some kind of drug they’d shoot up. I didn’t stay and listen. Once my they got their dose in, they’d be out of it for awhile which gave me plenty of time.

I quickly ran upstairs and grabbed an old bag that I found in my closet and began throwing clothes into it. I hurried and packed a few clothes and spare food that I snuck into my room. I briefly paused, listening for any sounds of people moving. I heard none.

I quietly went across the hall to my parents’ room. I knew where they hid their money. I quietly snuck in their room, before going into their closet. There was a safe on the left side of the shelf. Grabbing I took it before realizing there was a code. Of course, there’d be a code stupid! I paused, thinking of what it could be before it clicked. 04/22/1994- my brother’s birthday. The safe unlocked, revealing cocaine and a stack of bills and credit cards. I couldn’t bring credit cards...they would track me. I quickly grabbed the money and ran back to my room, stuffing it in the bag.

Harsh and heavy thumps were coming towards my room. Oh no! I ran to the door and locked it. That should be able to slow him down. I grabbed my bag and opened the window. Then I did what any girl with my life would do, I jumped out the window.

“Ally!” I heard him yell from the window.

“Ally! Get in here!” His words were slurring. I ran and ran until I ended up in a place full of skyscrapers and lights. The streets were lined with lights that you couldn’t tell were on or off- the lights flashing from stores, markets, and buildings made them blend in. As my adrenaline wore off, I began feeling my wounds from last night again. I groaned in pain, before taking a deep breath and continuing on. I couldn’t stay here right in the open; I’d have to find somewhere safe to sleep for the night. I know I didn’t deserve anything better than what I just ran from, but I didn’t want to be there anymore. I couldn’t...I could barely handle the rape that I had to endure from my father and his 4 friends...I couldn’t endure being raped all day by countless men... Not to mention, the only reason I stuck around after the first time they raped me, was because I still believed my parents would come around. Now I know they won’t.

I found a little opening in an alley and decided to sit down to catch my breath. my wounds were aching but the cold air help to numb them. Opening my bag, I dug out the money I stole and began counting it. I had $500 dollars to get me through this...however long I’d be out here on the streets. Putting the money back into my bag, I clung on to it. I was hungry, but, I knew I would have to wait until it was absolutely necessary to eat- I didn’t have a lot of money to spare. I only had $500 and that wouldn’t last long without a job. I decided to take a chance and move. During the day I will sleep but at night I will keep moving. I picked myself up, wincing at my wounds, and walked down the alley.

.

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