breaking point.

Makin new...friends?

Rebekah's pov

I shut the door behind me. School had been shitty, just like always, but it was 10.000 times better than being "home" or whatever this was. 3rd grade just started a few days ago and I already hate it... Everyone's staring at me because of the new bruises I'm showing up with almost everyday and I'm trying my best in hiding 'em from the teachers.
Ms Hayes noticed ones and she immediately send me home because I told her that I fell while playing outside. Then I got beaten up even more for being sent home from school..

After shutting the door, I try to make my way up the stairs as quiet as possible... Of course this one thousand year old step has to ruin everything.. 'Shit' I think to myself running upstairs now but I can already here those heavy steps of his. "Rebekah." He yells through the whole house. 'He is drunk again.. my day just keeps gettin better and better.' I think as I get inside my room and lock it immediately. *second mistake*
Harsh knocks echo from outside the door after he realized it's locked. "Open girl!" He demands aggressively and I start shaking violent. I hate when he's got that edge to his voice, which isn't rare at all. "Please Dad, I'm doing homework." I say trying to hide the fear in my voice, I fail miserably... I have to call him Dad and it disgusts me just as much as the man himself.. "Open now Rebekah!! I'm not going to repeat myself you piece of shit." He mutters the last part but I can hear it clearly. With shaking fingers I turn the key in the doorknob, the all to familiar *klick* echoing in my ears like thunderstorms.. Violently he kicks the door open, sending me flying to the ground as my vision starts to get blurry. "You little cunt, what the fuck did I tell you about locking the door?!? Huh??" She yells in my face, holding me in the air by my arms. Fingers gripping so tight, I was sure my skin would give in any second. "Dad, I'm so sorry, I promise-" "What?!?!" He cuts me off so loud, my ears were pounding. "No..I'm done with your sorry excuses girl." He whisper slurs against my skin, lips so close to mine. I could smell the whiskey so strong it made me want to vomit. "Please.." I beg, my voice cracking, hot tears beginning to run down my cheeks. His lips curl into an through and through disgustingly wide and dirty grin, yellow teeth showing. He gets even closer and I can feel his wet tongue on my face, licking my cheek. "Mhh, your tears taste soo good." He says and I close my eyes, just wanting it all to be over. "Look at me you fucking pussy!" He screams as he shakes me violently. "What? Are you afraid of Daddy??Should I feel sorry for your ugly bitch ass now?! I'm so done with your constant crying, no wonder your real parents threw you out on the street like the trash you are!!" He smacks my right cheek hard with his right backhand, gripping me by my neck with his left. I enclose both my hands around his, scratching and digging, trying to get free but it makes him only grip harder as more tears stream down my face and my vision gets blurry once again. He continues to hit my cheek as I struggle to breath before he suddenly throws me, my back slamming hard against the wall of my room. I lay there on the ground, coughing and gasping for air, not being able to move as I hear his steps getting further and further away. My head pounds like a truck just ran me over, backed up and ran me over again. My back felt like several vertebra were out of place and I was sure my neck was ten times thinner. The tiny relief that he was gone was replaced with a crushingly fear as I heard heavy steps approach again and his muddy boots came into sight. Approaching me ever so slowly he only let my fear ascend into infinite.. As he lifts me up I immediately notice the knife stuck in his belt and my heart begins to pound drastically. He sits me down on the wooden table in the tiny room, holding my chin up so I look into his crazy brown eyes, craning my already damaged neck to its limit. I hear the slicing sound which means he had taken the knife from his belt and cold metal's soon pressed against my chin, the sharp tip pressing into my lower lip, drawing blood. He continues to run it over my cheek, stopping just under my eye and enjoying every last bit of the horror in my watery blue eyes. "Stop whining little whore. It's over soon." His tone is soft, almost soothing if it wasn't for the words it carried. He takes the knife back, then suddenly runs it over my left cheek harshly, slicing the soft skin like paper. He stops just at my ear, leaving a insanely long scar, thick blood running down the whole left side of my face as I sob loudly and he lifts me up, high this time, and lets me drop onto the cold floor, slamming the door shut behind him. I press an old t shirt of mine against the cut after calming myself down a little, curled up in a little ball on the floor. I stitched it up. All on my own. Using a bit of stolen alcohol of this man for disinfection. It had burned like hell and I took a piece of clothes between my teeth, to muffle my screams. I went to school the next day....