I wandered home through the brush of the forest, frightened that I would be late. I had lost track of time during my trek through the woods, and finding Sophie Johnson had been a major distraction.
Please God, I prayed. Please save me from another beating.
I was the oldest of six children, so my parents always blamed me for their financial problems. Whenever I got home past curfew, they would beat me. They beat me when I laughed or was having fun. They said "Autumn, why are you having fun? That's not your job. Your job is to get good grades in school so you can get us somewhere in life." And then they'd beat me. Sometimes they beat me for no good reason.
My only reason I stayed in that place I call home is because of my youngest sister, Dot. Sometimes I feel like she's the only one who understands me, even if she's only three.
I sprinted through my yard as I rushed through the back door, the clock barely reaching 5:00; my curfew.
I found my parents standing before me, arms crossed and sinister looks on their faces.
"Autumn," my father began. "How do you explain this B on your report card that we just got in the mail?"
My heart sunk. I had worked really hard on my grades all semester, and I would get a beating for a simple B.
"I..." I trailed off. I didn't have an explanation. All I knew was that I had tried my best.
"It's as if she wants to get beat," my mother told my father.
"Well if that's what she wants..." they slowly started walking forward, trapping me in the kitchen like a lion stalking it's prey.
"Please," I whimpered.
"Aww. Poor lamb," cooed Mother.
I saw Dot enter the room with a worried look on her face as my father suddenly lurched forward an punched my left eye. My head banged against the counter and I collapsed on the floor in a heap, covering my eye.
My parents started laughing. "How weak!" they chanted. "You would've thought we could've raised a stronger daughter!"
It was as if their only joy in life was abusing me.
Just then, the worst part came. They started kicking and punching every part of my body they could get a hold of. I cried out in pain, trying to hold in tears, but with no luck. After what seemed like hours, my father finally spat, "Maybe next time, you'll think about working harder so you can support your family. Or do you want your sweet little Dot to starve?"
With that last note, Dot ran over to me and dabbed my wounds with wet wash cloths as I slipped out of consciousness.
YOU ARE READING
Fairy Tale
FantasySophie has always believed in magic, even if she won't admit it. She is popular and pretty, and she had a reputation to keep, which the belief in fairies would ruin. Autumn is the complete opposite. She is anti-social and she has a deep secret; sh...
