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Trigger warning: mentions of abuse.

L I L Y

The next few classes passed by with ease, there's still the odd stares, but I'm too focused on Emilio's jokes to fully be aware of them.

He's really funny.

Art was fun. We got to draw, which I really enjoyed. Granted, my drawing wasn't great, but I tried and my friends seemed to like it. I've never drew anything before. We had to draw how we see ourselves, I drew a caterpillar evolving into a butterfly. Maybe that'll be me some day.

I got to meet Bella during art. She's so sweet, she's almost a mixture of Maya and Emilio. She has Maya's sass and she's a joker, like Em. I can see why they're all friends.

Other than drawing, we spend most of the class chatting and I found out most of their interests and hobbies. Apparently they all play an instrument and want to form a band. Maya plays guitar, Bella plays piano and Luke plays drums. Em and Atlas can play most instruments, but they love to sing the more than anything.

I'd love to hear them play and sing.

They asked me if I could play an instrument, and I explained I've never had the chance to, with being homeschooled and all. They then ask if I can sing, to which I reply that I'm not sure.

I've never sang before, too scared that they'd hear me and I'd face the consequences. It wouldn't be worth it. I do love to listen to music when I get the chance. I've got Jacks old iPod that he gave me a few years ago. I can't listen to it as often as I'd like though, I have to keep it hidden from our parents. They don't know he gave it to me, I still don't understand why he did.

It was a random day that Jack had been surprisingly nice to me. I'd just received a rough beating from our father, Jack hadn't witnessed it, he was in his room at the time. I'm certain he heard it though, It would be hard not to.

I don't even remember what I done to receive such a beating, I was only ten at the time.

The day started off normal for me, laying on the floor in the basement of our old home, reading an old tattered copy of Cinderella, when suddenly, the book was ripped from my grasp and I came face-to-face with my fathers dark angry eyes, filled with so much hatred and disgust that I flinched away from him.

His palm hit my cheek before I could process what was happening. Everything began to blur, including the pain after a while.

I don't remember much of what he done, only his words stayed with me.

"It's all your fault."

"Because of you she's gone."

"My baby girl gone, for you. You worthless, ungrateful piece of shit."

"I can't make them pay, but I sure as hell will make you suffer."

"You should be dead. I'm going to make you bleed until you wish that's what you were, nothing but a corpse."

And that he did. As I said, I don't fear death. I fear life, I fear living.

I didn't understand his words. I still don't. I'm supposed to be his baby girl. Aren't I? Where had I gone?

After his hateful words, he let go of my throat and dropped me on the hard concrete before leaving the room.

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