Chapter 1 - Thin walls
I was suddenly awoken by the sound of my parents arguing. They always argue, but it seemed more violent than usual. The walls were thin, practically paper, I could hear every word that was said.
I tried to ignore, but the yelling, screaming and smashing of beer bottles made it impossible to do so. I constantly wonder why my mother still puts up with him.
"Shit, late, late, late." I mutter as I clamber out of my bed. I was given some sort of morning schedule, I MUST follow daily.
I was to wake up at 6:30. However, I have to deal with a faulty alarm clock, that occasionally doesn't go off.
Then I had to get ready and clean my room, and leave the house at exactly 7:30, or I'd be getting a handful of fresh bruises and cuts added to the collection.
Once, I was late to leaving the house on time by 1 minute... He grabbed me by my hair, and dragged me to the kitchen, he found the knife he always uses to carve slurrs into my arms, such as "slut" and "whore".
However, that day he didn't carve any names into my arms, Instead he carved out the words "Die".
Death was constantly on my mind, but the fact that a family member, no matter how cruel, wanted me to do so, was so unbearable and painful...
I hear my father's footsteps, slowly trailing up the stairs. This made mr panic, and I rushed to the wardrobe, but somehow managed to trip over my own feet... perhaps out of fear?
I let out a small cry, indicating pain. My father, about 7 feet away from my door, hears me, and starts laughing. My pain is something he enjoys.
I get up and open my wardrobe, grabbing my oversized plain black hoodie and worn out blue jeans. I change into them as fast as I could.
I wear baggy clothes, to hide the truth, so nobody'll ever find what goes on here... so my secrets and scars will remain hidden and untouched by others.
*BANG BANG BANG* My father repeatedely bangs on the door *BANG BANG BANG* , and yells
"YOU'VE GOT 2 MORE MINUTES LEFT TO GET YOUR FAT ASS OUT OF THIS HOUSE, BEFORE I CARVE EVEN DEEPER INTO YOUR SKIN THIS TIME YOU SLUT."
He forces me to call him sir, he says that I'm no daughter of his. If I make the accident of calling him dad or father, he gets an iron rod and heats it up with the fire in the fire place, and makes me hold it with my bare hands, until it cools down.
Before leaving, I pull up my sleeve, and stare at my scars... You can still make out the words very clearly.. 'slut' 'whore' 'bitch' 'Die'....
A tear rolled down my cheeck. I wipe it away, and pulled my hood over my head, hiding the bruises and cuts on my face...
He often cuts my face, not big cuts, only when teaching me discipline. He rests the sharp point of his knife gently on my cheeck, then presses it deeper into my skin whilst lecturing me.
Those scars heal quickly though.
I run downstairs, ignoring the pain across my entire body. I look over to my mother who is cleaning her wounds, presumably from the fight just a few minutes ago.
"Goodbye mother" I say, she nods at me and gives me a small smile. I nod back and walk out of the front door.
As I leave my house, I cant help but smile. Everyone in the neighbourhood knows that there is something weird going on in my family, but once they see me leaving my house with a smile on my face, they leave their suspicions behind.
They really shouldn't though, my life is dark, my smile is not of happiness, but of the brief freedom I get, until I have to relive my home life but at school.
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