"Next time, do as I tell you! No questions asked!" Trevor roared, standing over my petite body. His face is a fiery red, seething with anger. I pushed myself as far into the wall as I could, feeling my entire body shake with fear. My heart is beating wildly against my chest, the sound of it echoing in my ears.
(In Hope's head)
Whatever you do, don't look him in the eyes, Hope.
(In reality Hope's perspective/memory)
His hands curl up into a tight fist and I immediately shrink into myself, screaming out as they come crashing down onto my body. Pain is all I feel, so much pain.
"Please stop! You don't have to do this!" I yell pleading with him, tears rushing down my face. My screams of agony fall on deaf ears so I give up and lay there, emotionless, letting him torture me like his little rag doll that I am.
*****(after the incident)
I stare at my reflection in the mirror and sigh, hastily wiping my tears away from my eyes. I refuse to cry. That's exactly what he wants and I would never give him the satisfaction of knowing I already am. A big clump of my dark brown, almost black hair is missing, the scalp throbbing painfully where he'd ripped it out. My fingers trailed down my cheek, under my eye where the stinging was now turning a tender blue bruise. It was times like this where I thank God I have an Olive skin tone. The bruises don't show up as easily.
I bite my bottom lip and let out a small whimper as I attempt to lift my top to see the damage he'd inflicted. As expected, the bruises ran up my side but thankfully, nothing felt broken.
How sad is it that I could tell the difference between a bruised and a broken bone?
..........
"Why did you leave me like this Dad?" I whisper, glancing at the frame on my bedside table. A photograph was taken of me as a little girl... large brown eyes shining happily as I sat on my father's broad shoulders, holding tightly to his hair. His own eyes mirrored mine, a pearly smile so white and wide. Dad and I were inseparable.
I adored the ground my father walked on. Every time he entered the room, I craved his attention. Mum had taken the picture at my sixth birthday party. I remember that day so well, the way my father smiled at me as he sang Happy Birthday. I remember him clutching the cake in front of him, telling me to make a wish and blow out the candles. He cheered so loud, it felt like I had my own personal cheerleading squad.
Dad died suddenly the following month leaving his only daughter with a shattered heart. 12 years now without the man I admired.
I shuffle towards my bed, sitting down on the edge of it. I lifted the picture up to my lips, placing a gentle kiss over the glass. It felt cool and I closed my eyes, taking slow breaths, allowing the oxygen to fill my lungs and calm my thoughts.
"Night night, sleep tight my little princess," Dad said every single night, tucking me up tightly before leaving the room and closing the door slightly.
He knew I didn't like the dark. " Night night Daddy," I whispered, clutching the picture frame tightly to my chest.
***** (the next morning)
I walked into the school, scanning the crowds for my best friend, Trisha Lockwood. The friendship between Trish and I had always been peculiar to anyone looking from the outside. I'm relatively quiet whereas Trish is loud and bubbly. My dark hair is the complete opposite of Trish's bright blonde locks. She wears pink skirts with frill tops whereas I prefer to stick to denim jeans and a simple t-shirt. The only thing I regret every day is not telling her about my stepfather. The secret was kept for so long, I didn't know how to tell her anymore. Trish knows I despise my stepfather and mother, but doesn't question it any further as she knows that it's a sensitive subject.
YOU ARE READING
Saving Hope
Short Storysaving hope it is about a girl who goes through a number imaginable things. She dealt with the loss of her father and the remarriage she had to go through with an abusive stepfather who drank too much, she had to suffer from anxiety, depression, and...
