Emotion (Jasper Hale x Reader)

1

Warning from the Author!!!!
I mentioned this in the description of this fanfiction, but if you triggered by:
flashbacks, abuse, mention of self harm, cursing and other things dealing with physical or mental abuse then be advised when reading this story. These things are mentioned a lot during my story and I don't want anyone to be hurt.

Y/N pov

BANG

CRASH

Glass was being thrown everywhere, the rebounds cutting all over my body. Dad was drinking again. I can't stand it. I crawl around the corner, slowly making my way to the bathroom. The carpet already stained with red, rusted up blood from past beatings.

"Your not going anywhere." He says, fire blazing in his eyes. Just like every time. I stop moving, it never helps anyway. I'm now laying in the doorway of the bathroom. Dad takes off his belt, holding it up above his head. His arm goes down.

I whimper.

Mom starts walking our way, her light footsteps echo in the walls of our house. The belt comes down again.

I cry out. Mom stays quiet. She lets Dad continue. She never stops him.

Black spots cover my eyes.

He continues bringing each lash down with more force then the last.

I now screech. My voice cracking as a dry sob exits my throat. The belt now adding more and more welts to my back, now joining the scars. The strength in his lashes dulls down, soon he stops.

"Get cleaned up Bitch." He says as he leaves the bathroom. Mom just follows him. Without a word.

I try to stand. Shit. It burned like hell. The new welts stretching with my skin as I try to sit up. The welts aching. I reach behind my back. Of course. I thought as my hand comes back with blood. 

I grit my teeth. My legs push my sore body up. Looking down, the floor is now covered with blood. The walls also splattered with it. I clean it up, whimpering as I do so.

I have to leave here. It's always been bad but now, now it's hard to feel pain. A tear falls. Some emotions are gone, pain is harder to feel. Tears start streaming down my cheeks. I need to leave. I slowly move to my room. Grabbing some money, clothes, and my ukulele, I start moving to my desk. I stare at the desk. My phone sitting on it. Should I? I wonder, he might track it. I do one last thing on it. I pull up an airlines website I find a place. An even more quiet place then this.

A place called Forks.