Everything || j.s

500 Special

A/N
As promised here is the 500 read special. Enjoy!
I understand this is a very sensitive topic. If you have experienced physical/mental abuse before and it easily upsets you, I wouldn't recommend reading this.

______________________

I sat there crumpled in a corner waiting anxiously just knowing what was about to happen. I couldn't run. I couldn't hide. I couldn't scream. If I did, I would die. To be perfectly honest, this is not how I wanted to die. Not because I was young, but because no one would ever know what actually happened to me.

I wish my mother knew, yet I didn't want to run the risk of her walking into a situation as dangerous as this. She saw; we both died. I knew that for a fact.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when the figure I hated most burst into my bedroom and trudged towards me with a cane in his hand. He told everyone he had a disability of not being able to walk, but only I knew the real reason he had it.

Tears streamed down my face as I begged him to leave me alone, that mom would one day find out if he didn't. This did not phase him. He couldn't care less if I told mom because if I did he would kill us. I would much rather die alone, than have to bring my mother with me. I wish she knew though. I wish I could run out of the house and scream. But I couldn't. I daren't.

I smelt the trace of alcohol on his hot breath as he came up to my face, spitting as he did so, and told me to shut up.

Then came the hits. My legs and chest were covered in recent scars he had left there previous nights. I curled into a ball trying to protect my organs and rib cage. He knew not to hit my arms or face, because they would be on show a lot.

I tried committing suicide a few times, but he would catch me every one of them and whispered the words I hated to hear most; 'You die, you know who's next.'

I didn't know if he meant my sister or my mom, but I couldn't let him start on them because I let him.

With every hit came a word.
Worthless
Bitch
Die
And others I don't feel comfortable repeating.

Worthless got to me the most. How could someone call their own daughter, who they raised, worthless? It hurt more than the punches, the kicks and the cane. Worthless.

I was just a punching bag. A human punching bag.

__________________

Serious chapter there. If anyone has experienced/is experiencing any type of abuse, tell someone. It may seem like if you do things will get worse, but telling someone can make a change. I have personally never experienced anything (just putting that out there).

Thanks for reading
Em x