Storm Grey

2

A/N: Song- press song! If you want. Song!;
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*Warning*
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There might be a use of swearing along with content unsuitable for certain viewers (No sexual content, if that's what you think).

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The girl lay on her bed trembling in fear. She could hear her father's footsteps come upstairs. They stomped loudly all the way to her room. When they stopped she held her breath. She knew what was going to happen.
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The door slammed open. It hit the wall hard enough to make a picture hanging fall on the floor. She heard the glass break into pieces. She knew he must be really angry this time. He only ever slammed the door when he had a bad day.
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"Get up" ordered her father. Scared out of her mind, she jumped off her bed and stood as straight as she could as he approached her. She watched fearfully for his first hit. Her eyes remained open until his foot kicked her left leg and lost her footing, making her fall.
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She closed her eyes right before her head hit the hard wood floor. "Stupid piece of filth" muttered her father. He gave her another kick to her left leg. "Waste of my life" he continued. He bent down and used his fist to hit her face. She whimpered and winced at every hit and kick.
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"Stupid freak of nature" muttered her father. She hadn't gotten any sleep last night. Well, she hasn't properly slept for a while. She would always lay awake at night, ticking down the time until her father would 'beat' her good morning.
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Today was different though. Today she would start primary school. She was seven years old and would be in public school. It would be different for the girl. Not because of her lack of friends but because she would hide her many bruises.
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She felt another kick, this time to her stomach. She felt a little crack. It wasn't anything new. She's heard it before. She read a lot of books and she figured out what is was. It was a crack that broke her rib cage. This was the fifth time she heard the noise.
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The girl waited until he made his last hit. After ten minutes he gave her s hard hit to her stomach. She held her breath and waited for him to leave her room. She counted five seconds before allowing herself to breathe again and letting herself get up.
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The girl got up with difficulty and went to get new clothes for the day. She wouldn't take baths in the morning because she read that it would be best to bathe at around ten o' clock at night. Besides, it also took up mot of her time when she would need to get big clothing.
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The girl grabbed a long sleeve sweatshirt and long leggings. She quickly changed into her clothes and went to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and took a look at the bruises and red marks on her face. She opened the third drawer down and found makeup.
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Sure, the girl was pretty young, but she read so many books that she learned about makeup tips from her mother's magazines. She grabbed concealer and applied ur to her bruises and new burning red marks on her face. She also added makeup to her arms.
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Once the girl was done, she put the makeup away and went downstairs. She headed to the dining table and sat down in the seat to the left of her father. She saw a bowl of cereal left there with a glass of orange juice and a carton full of milk.
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The girl poured some milk in her cereal and started eating. She drank her cup of orange juice and finished after ten minutes. She ran up to her room and grabbed her backpack. When she put it over her shoulder she looked at the broken picture on the floor.
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The picture lying broken on the floor was of her just three years ago. When she was four. She was in the middle of her father's left shoulder and mother's right. She sighed as she thought of how easier life was before her father started beating her. Before her mother got a promotion.
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She continued out of her room and went downstairs. She ran out of the door and went down the block where a bench was. She sat down by a boy with jet black hair. He had bright green eyes and his hair was a very thick mess. It covered his forehead completely and was bigger than his thin body.
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The girl sat on the she of the bench because she was really scared of what people would do if they saw any of her bruises. She felt the boy's gaze on her and turned her head to see him carefully examining her. "Are you okay?" His question startled her, but responded with her own question. "Are you? You look pale" said the girl.
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"Yeah. I just don't get big meals to eat" the boy explained. "Oh. How come?" He shrugged. "I don't know" was all he said. She could tell he didn't want to talk about that topic further. "Oh, okay. What's your name?" "Harry," answered the boy her age. "You?"
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"Her-" started the girl but got cut off by being pushed off the bench. At first, she thought it was her that did it. She had somehow been making strange things happen. "You're in our seat" said a girl's voice. It sounded older and commanding. "You could take my seat" offered a worried and panicked Harry.
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"No, we want this one. It's ours after all said another girl's voice. The young girl looked at the two girl's who had caused her to fall. She felt tears form in her eyes but kept them back. "Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt?" Harry helped her to get her up to her feet.
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"I'm fine" lies the girl. She was anything but. Her bruises hurt more and now her mind replayed what happened just that morning. She shivered at the thought of it. "Are you cold?" "No, I'm fine" she continued to lie. The boy sighed realizing he won't be getting anything out of her.
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They heard the wheels of a vehicle approach and the two older girls got up from their seat. They purposely bumped into the young girl causing her to fall on her back. Harry then rushed to the girl's side. He lent his hand out and she hesitantly grabbed it.
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"Can I sit with you on the bus?" "Sure," she told him. Then a bright smile was plastered on Harry's face. "Come on. I'll lead the way" said Harry before turning around and starting to walk on the bus. The girl inwardly smiled realizing someone wanted to talk to her.
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Following Harry, the girl had a neutral expression on her face biding her pain she's been feeling for two years now. It always grew worse everyday with more beatings and lack of care and treatment for the bruises. Also for her cuts she was starting to get now.
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Harry chose the two seats in the upper middle to sit down. He let the girl have the window seat and sat down after her on the aisle seat. The girl felt comfortable and at please in her seat. Not because someone being friendly to her, but because she was finally away from her father.
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"So what was your name again? All I heard was 'her' before you fell" said Harry as a few more students entered the bus. The girl wondered if she should say her name. It was very odd and uncommon. Her father always told her that everyone would hate her and laugh at her name.
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"I don't think I should tell you. It's too weird and you'll only laugh" said the girl. "Oh. So, what do i call you? 'Her'?" "It would probably be better than my real name, so yeah" said the girl. "Okay, 'Her.' Call me 'Hair,' then" said Harry smiling goofily but wasn't joking. Hermione, surprisingly, laughed.
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"Okay, 'Hair'" said the girl. Harry began to laugh. "So what do you like to do for fun?" He seemed to think what he might say before actually speaking. "Read, I guess. I'm not allowed to go anywhere or do anything much" said the girl. "Really? Me neither" said Harry smiling at their things in common.
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"What about you?" He pondered a small bit. "Hmm.. maybe clean. I don't have much other options to do at home" he confessed. "How come?" The phrase curiosity killed the cat had seemed nonexistent at the moment. "Promise not to make fun of me or laugh?" "Promise" she replied. With a sigh he told her. "Well, my parents sort of died and I live with my aunt and uncle"
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Hermione felt bad when those words came out of his mouth. "What? That's terrible. Who would ever laugh at that?" He shrugged as he honestly wasn't sure on specifics. "I just thought people would laugh. My aunt and uncle always say they hate my parent. They don't even mention their names."
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"I don't mean to be rude but your aunt and uncle seem like very mean people" said the girl. "It's okay," said Harry a little uncomfortably. He shifted in his seat feeling awkward. The girl thought it to be a sign to not talk about it anymore nor push the topic further.
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The girl looked down at her lap while silence remained between the two children. She started to feel uncomfortable herself with thoughts of silence at home. It was always when sh would wait for her father to come up and beat her. Or it was after she was beaten and she'd lie helpless on the floor.
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"We're here" said Harry snapping her out of her thoughts with a shiver down her spine. "You okay?" She heard the concern in his voice. "Y-Yeah. Just a bit cold" she lied. "Okay" said Harry. He got out of his seat with his book bag and allowed the girl to exit out of the bus first.
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Later in the day, the girl was on her way to her last class when she encountered the same girls from earlier. "Well look who it is. A weirdo" said one of them. "Don't forget ugly, stupid, freak" said the other. They both laughed as fear creeped up on the small girl. She only heard those words from her father during her beatings.
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Thinking she'd get hurt, the girl stayed stiff as a board. The two girls laughed at her. By now the halls were empty. The girl and two years older girls were who remained. The two older girls exchanged a look before they walked up to the girl, cornering her against the wall behind her. Leaving no escape.
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The two girls glanced at each other with a nod. Their evil grin plastered on their faces with them taking steps closer were frightening. The girl tried to hide her fear, she really did. It had worked but the two girls just got angry. Just as they were about to raise their fists, a voice stopped them.
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"Hey! What are you three doing? Get to class!" It was an angry woman's voice from down the hall. The two girls turned and nodded respectfully. "Sorry ma'am. We were just asking her that" lied on of the girls. "Whatever the matter, get to class. I'll be calling your parents" she said, thinking it was a big deal.
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At that the two girls rushed to class. Hermione did the same, but slower. She was very weak for her age, or any child, and couldn't run without showing at least one sign of pain. Not until she was home. Not until later that day.
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The girl barely got home when she heard her father's shouts. He stormed over to her and she watched in fear at his movements. She let her book bag fall to the floor before standing completely still waiting for the first hit. But it never came. Instead, he stopped in front of her.
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She looked up at his face as she heard metal cling against leather. She looked down and saw her father taking off his belt. He unbuckled it, quickly. Then he pulled at it and it came out of each belt loop. When it was all finally pulled out, it dangled from his hand.
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He brought his hand slowly and carefully up at his shoulders, making the belt lift and flip over, shifting in the air. The little girl stared stared wide-eyed as he growled. She took in a sharp breath, waiting for the strike of pain from the heavy belt. When it came, she was too shocked at the pain to even scream. No one would come, anyways. If they did, it might be a second too late.