Abused and Broken

Chapter 1

"Get up brat," I heard a harsh voice call out to me in my sleep. I groaned as I turned to my side in my sleep. I jolted up as I felt a sharp pain across my face. I looked up to see my dad smirking at the red hand print that had started to appear on my face. "I can do better than that," he mumbled as he kicked me out of bed. I grunted in pain. He kicked my ribcage, I wasn't sure if it was broken as at yesterday but I'm pretty sure it was broken now. He kicked my side again before saying, "you better be downstairs in eight minutes or I will be coming back up and you know what will happen when I come back up." He kicked me again and left the room.

I sighed, this is how my life has been for the past five years. My mom had died when I was eleven in a car crash. My mom and I were on our way home when a drunk driver had hit our car. I was in a coma for three days. When I woke up I found out that my mom didn't make it and my dad wanted to do with me. I hurt like hell. My dad was made to keep me in his custody, but I'm pretty sure he will kick me out when I'm eighteen. No one really cared enough to check if he was actually taking care of me. My dad always blamed me for the death of my mother. He said I should have just died with her and left him alone. It didn't help that when I was fourteen I found out that I was a little. I didn't dare let my father know that I still need a diaper to go to sleep or my paci to calm me down. He would just beat me more and that will give him one more reason to hate as if he doesn't have enough.

I slowly got up from the floor being mindful of my ribcage that was now swollen and blueish purple color. I walked to my closet hissing in pain as I lifted my left arm. I picked a black hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants. I made my way to the bathroom quickly brushing my teeth and spraying on some deodorant. I couldn't take a shower because of time and the burning in my side. I put on the clothes, pulling the hood over my head to hide my face, I just started junior year I don't want to give out a negative vibe. I slip on my black vans, put my phone in my pocket, picked up my school bag and left my room.

I met my dad on the couch in the living room with a bottle of beer. "I'm leaving now," I said as I walked past the living room. My dad just hurled the beer bottle at my head and thankfully he missed and the beer bottle smashed into pieces as it hit the wall. I quickly exited the house before he could think of doing anything else. Even though I was used to it. Everyone who ever touched me always hurt me, pain was now a normal feeling both physically and mentally. I missed my mom and the way my dad was before she died. I want them both back but I know that will never happen. I understand my dad is hurt but he doesn't have to take it all out on me, I'm hurt too. I miss her smile and how when she laughed she made people around her laugh too. She was the best mother I could have ever wanted. We used to be a perfect family until that drunk man destroyed us. He was sent to prison for drinking and driving but that really didn't change anything. I want him to suffer like he made me suffer. At least I know his name, I could look for him when I become a legal adult and then make him suffer a slow and painful death. Yes, revenge is a dish best served cold.

I got to the bus stop and waited about five minutes before the bus came. I made my way to my usual seat at the back. I didn't have any friends, not that I couldn't have any, I wasn't lame or any kind of that shit, I didn't want any. The more I let people in the more I get hurt, I learnt that the hard way. I put my airpods in listening to 'Memories' by Maroon 5.