His little light

prologue

TW: Abuse

There she was, huddled in the corner of her tiny room, her head tucked between her knees shielding herself from her fathers belt, which had already lashed upon her back many, many times, so many times that her back was now a solid dark purple and blue bruises  from the hard landings from a belt that's now almost broken in half.

Her father had yet come home, angry and mad, and drunk, having so much anger built up, he was quick to take it out on his tiny daughter Lillian.

"You stupid worthless tiny dumb child, it's your fault she left, I wish we never had you." He said his words slurring as he landed one big powerful lash apron her back causing the belt to snap in half with a loud crack that echoed the tiny room she called a bedroom.

Since his weapon of choice was now broken in half, he grabbed the closet thing he could find, which happened to be a empty whiskey bottle and threw it at the tiny girl.

Hitting her bare leg, cutting it open. He smiled in satisfaction as the blood started to pour out of of the open gash and down her already bruised up tiny leg.

"Clean this shit up, and start my dinner." He said spitting on her before walking out of her room, slamming the door in the process causing her to flinch.

Once the sound of his loud footsteps disappeared meaning she was out of harms way, for now at least. She let out a small sniffle she had been holding back, tears started falling now.

She then raised her head out of her knees to look around the dark bedroom, making sure she was really out of harms way.

The room was small and dark, seeing as the only thing that provided light was the small window which was bordered up by some wood.

She didn't have a bed or a dresser or any toys for that fact, instead she had a small sleeping bag that was laid out on one corner of the room, and a small box that had her only other change of clothes.

She attempted to get up, but couldn't, as the pain erupted through her entire back and leg.

She was small for a three year old. Extremely underweight and malnourished. Probably being able to be passes as a one year old.

The man who she is supposed to call her father, only lets her eat once a week, if he even remembers to feed her.

Her meals conclude of one piece of moldy bread and a half eaten apple which was rotted.

She would never eat the latter, because of how horrible it tasted, but she would force herself to eat the old stale bread.

After a solid couple of minutes she was able to force herself to stand up, wincing because of the pain on her back and the large open gash in her leg. Her tiny legs wobbled as she moved to her so called "bed."

She carefully made it, making sure not to put to much pressure on her leg or to hit her back on the wall.

Once her bed was made she moved to began cleaning up the broken glass from the bottle. She hissed as the glass cut her tiny palm.

"Get your tiny ass in here and make my dinner you disgrace." Her father yelled from the living room.

She did as she was told, throwing away the shards of glass before making her way to the kitchen, being as quiet as she could not to disturb him from drinking and watching tv like he always did when he wasn't at work.

Lillian did everything, she was forced to, if she would she would get beaten. Even though she was three, she had learned how to clean and cook what she could.

She was smart for her age, because she was forced to.

Although the only thing her father ever bought from the store was was bread, noodles and cereal she made what she could.

Quietly making a pack of microwavable noodles, she looked out of the window into the back yard of her so called "home."

The window gave perfect view of a playground not far from her home. She always wondered what it would be like to run around freely and play however she wanted to do, bit have to worry about if she was gonna get hit out of the blue.

Lillian was smart for her age, she knows how to speak, but choses not too, not wanting to get into trouble. She was able to somewhat read and write, but she was also forced to learn that seeing as she had to know how to make food from the directions on the back of the box.

Getting distracted, imagining what it would actually be like to be a regular child. Lillian didn't hear the beeping noise from the microwave, signifying that her father's food was done.

That was until she felt yet another glass bottle being thrown at her back causing her to yelp and spin around only to step on the glass that had broken on her back.

She looked up to see her father was standing there three feet in front of her angry as he could be.

"You little shit, the damn microwave had been beeping for ten fucking minutes." He said taking a step closer to her causing her to take a step back.

"why do you always ruin everything. You ruined my food, my house, you ruined my marriage, your mother, and now your ruining me." He said taking another step closer to her, making Lillian take a step back every time he stepped forwards. That was until her back hit the wall causing her eyes to go wide. A loud snack echoed the room as a pain formed on her face,  red hand print already on her cheek causing tears to form in her blue eyes.

"I wish you were never born, you waste of space. He said now standing in front of her.

He was quick to slap her face once more before moving in to kick her to the ground landing kick after kick to her stomach, back and legs.

Just as she felt like she was about to pass out, the sound of the front door slamming shut caused both herself and her father to look in that direction.

There stood a tall man. In a black suit, tattoos peeking out of at the neck and hands. His piercing blue eyes looked from Lillian who was now on the verge of passing out to her father, who to her surprise, looked.... scared.

The mans sudden face became angry, his eyes becoming hard and dark as his lips turned into a thin line. His hand were clenched as he took in the sight as he stood frozen in his spot.

There was two men standing behind him. They two were looking between Lillian and her father. Having come into the home to see what they saw, a father beating on his own child. They two were mad at the man before them

Even though she wanted to know what was happening, Lillian couldn't help but close her eyes, not being able to keep them open, the sound of people talking filled her ears but she couldn't understand what they were saying.

All she could think about is it him?

Is he her savior?

But little does she know, She would be his Light!