"I hope they don't hurt me today...", I whisper to myself as I sit up on my bed with a sigh.
I know it is stupid of me to even say that to myself. A day doesn't go by when they don't make me feel miserable.
Rubbing my eyes I look at the small red clock standing on the nightstand.
Ughhh, I'm late.
It's 05:30am already. I wouldn't be able to get to school on time because I won't be able to finish cleaning the house and cooking breakfast in time. I need to hurry up.
I quickly scramble out of bed and run to the small bathroom that I am privileged enough to have, considering the cruelty of my step parents, this is the most they could give me.
I took it without any complaints and appreciate it.
Beggars can't be choosers.
After quickly brushing my teeth, I felt hot water wrapping me in its warm embrace as I step into the shower, wincing instantly as I feel a stinging pain shoot through my arm when the steaming water makes contact with the freshly open cut.
Jack, my step father was drunk, the same process as every other night, and a monster burning in his eyes as he looked at me. He aimed the vodka bottle in his hand at me, as it sailed in the air, I ducked.
It missed me by a few inches. I cried out, but it was useless he was hell-bent on his abuse of me.
My step mother Gini, just stood there silently watching as he started hitting me. I really didn't expect much from her anyway. It was useless, she never cared about me.
I passed out. Her expression blank as I hit the floor and I welcomed the blackness of nothingness.
At the age of nine was when Jack and Gini came into my life. My new adoptive parents.
I was ecstatic to finally be part of a family, to be a daughter to someone. Everything seemed perfect but eventually, the facade began to fall when we moved to Miami, revealing their true nature.
The violent side. I was forced to do all the housework which involved cleaning all the rooms, washing the clothes, and making sure meals were cooked.
I was too young to understand what was happening to me or how to perform these tasks.
Once I was cleaning the dishes and accidentally broke a glass. Jack was infuriated when he found out. I remember the feeling of his hands tightening around my throat as I struggled to get air into my lungs.
When I begged them if I could go for a medical check-up just to make sure I had no internal injuries to my throat, Jack instead slammed my head against the wall as a response.
They caught me the one and only time I tried to run away. It was... not good.
After that night I decided to never attempt it again.
YOU ARE READING
Blue - My 8 BrothersGeneral Fiction
Blue has been living in an orphanage as far as back she can remember, with mental and physical abuse, and a never leaving feeling of loneliness. She was put in foster care at the age of 8 and her foster parents have been mercilessly abusing her ever...