Why does this happen to me? What have I done to deserve this? Since the age of 7 my so-called safe home has been a living hell, I wish I could run away and never look back but in reality I can’t no matter how far I run he will always find me and bring me back to this hell.
Staring down at my homework that I still haven’t started because it looked like a jumbled mess, I played with the ends of my favourite and only black hoodie, as weird as it sound it was like my safety blanket, I felt safe wearing it.
My room was tiny, all it had in it was an old mattress with a dirty old blanket and one small old dresser that held the little clothes I owned. Hearing a slam from the front door, I instantly backed myself into the corner of the room and pulled my hoodie over my head, trying to hide myself. I had cooked dinner for him earlier while he wasn’t home and left it on the table, but knowing him he will always find something wrong with it no matter what.
It was 5 days till my mother’s anniversary, and around this time things at home get a lot worse for me. In 5 days it will be 10 years since I lost my mother, my best friend, the only person who really loved me. People have always said that the more time goes on the easier it will get, but they’re wrong it gets harder and harder each year that goes.
“Rose! Where are you?!” Shakily getting up I walked out of the comfort of my room and down the stairs to face hell. The sight of him made me feel sick. The smell of vodka and beer that came from him made me feel sick. My so-called father sat at the dinning table with a bottle of alcohol all around him “yes, father?”
“For once you have cooked something that is eatable.” He slurred as he shoveled more food into his mouth while letting out a grunt. I’m in shock, surprised and taken back, something is wrong, he is never this nice to me ever, some bad will definitely happen.
Suddenly he jumped out of his seat and launched himself at me, he was smart enough to not hit me where people would see; I hunched over in pain as his fist connected with my stomach; the hits didn’t stop they kept coming one after another and continued like this for over 10 minutes; the pain was unbearable as always.
“Fucking pathetic little bitch! Your not even worth it!” Finally he stopped and got off of me. He grabbed his car keys and stumbled out the front door to his car. Gathering myself together I finally got up and slowly made my way up the stairs to the comfort of my room, sat down on my mattress and gather some clothes to change into after my shower. I grabbed the small photo of my mum I kept under my pillow and placed a light kiss on it “I wish you where here mum, I miss you so much and need you so much right now.”
I got up from my bed and went into the bathroom to shower; I stood in front of the full-length mirror, bruised are already forming all over my body, my arms and ribs were the worst, purple bruise had already formed. Climbing into the shower, I let the warm water caress my body and ease some pain that I was in.
Climbing into bed, I had put on as many warm clothes as possible to keep me warm throughout the night, the one blanket I had was old and had holes all over it. I finally let myself fall into a deep slumber, knowing that any moment the horrible nightmare will begin.