How bad can a good girl get?
With her entire future planned out in excruciating detail, all Adelina Baker wants is to protect her little brother and maybe do things that she never thought she would along the way. And who better to teach her some bad...
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"She was another girl, who had run out of things to dream about"
- Atticus
✥ ✥ ✥
THE LIGHT THAT COMES from outside the window hits my eyes instantly as I try to open them up, my eyelids feeling heavy, too heavy. I gasp for air as flashbacks from what happened last night come flushing to mind and before I can even calm myself down; I sit up, a pain pounding sharply on my temples, nonstop.
I regret it at the same moment when my belly aches in process and I have to contain a suffocated shriek when I remember I'm next to a monster, his deep breath and snores filling the silence of the room.
A deep breath is all I take so I don't start crying all over again as I finally adjust my eyes to the clarity, Tom's room taking place in front of me.
The feeling of his hand on my throat, his face way too close to mine, is enough to make me sick.
All signs of a terrible night.
I lose no time in standing up and head to my bedroom, carefully trying not to wake him up, but the pain that shoots through my whole body makes it impossible to do it fast. My right cheek feels like it's burning; my stomach aching from the punch and when I thought the headache couldn't get worse, it did.
Slowly, my senses begin to adjust and the minute I think I'm able to get out of that suffocating room, I do it.
I walk as fast as my suffering allows me to and when I finally reach my room, the air inside of it being much less penetrating, I let out a deep breath.
The first thing I do is run to the bathroom and turn on the scalding water that I'm used to. I enter the shower stall as fast as I can and despite my attempts to rub my skin to feel better, I still end up dirty. My skin is red from how much I'm rubbing it but I don't care.
I just need to take Tom's touch away from me.
After what it feels like ten minutes in agony, I finally turn off the water, the feeling of nausea in the back of my throat.
This has gone way too far.
I have to hold back the tears that threaten to fall and never stop as I gather every courage I've left to look at my reflection in the foggy mirror, my heart pounding vividly on my chest.
I shouldn't have done that.
There are red marks through my entire body from the left part of my stomach all the way up to my throat and when I stare at them, at how horrible Tom made me, the tears that I tried not to shed, come flushing. My right cheek is bright red, flashes from the slaps crossing my mind instantly and despite not visible, the ache from when he pulled my hair is present, a constant reminder of my weakness.
The last bruises were nothing compared to what I'm looking at and I curse underneath my breath for letting this situation get out of control.
My sobs get more intense and I try uselessly to muffle my agony by placing my hands on my mouth as I keep staring at my reflection, each glance at the bruises being another punch in the stomach.
