Another day, alone. Wake up, go to school, come home, that's my life. I arrived home, went straight upstairs to do my homework, I tried to prolong it for as long as I could, but I finished it within an hour. After I finished, it was time to go face my life again. I went down stairs to find my mother passed out on the couch, which didn't surprise me. She probably won't wake up till just before Phil gets home. I wish he would stay away, but that is not going to happen. He comes home from an away game today; he has only been gone two days. This means mom has be popping pills and drinking non-stop for two days. She is sleeping it all off right now because when Phil gets home, they will lock themselves in their bedroom for the night.
"Yeah, Phil is coming home" I thought sarcastically.
I got to work, I cleaned the whole living room, because it was covered in alcohol bottles, on my way back in from taking the trash out, the door slammed. I ran in to see if she was still asleep but I had no such luck, she was stirring awake. I rushed to start dinner hoping I could have it started before she became coherent, I managed to get the water for the noodles boiling before she called me.
I ran to get her, the pills from the medicine cabinet and a glass of water before I went to her. I walked in to the living room and gave my mother the bottle of pills and the glass of water, but she just threw it and drank from the vodka bottle on the table, then I waited. I took maybe two whole minutes before it started. You think I'd be used to this by now, it's happens every time Phil goes away.
"It's your entire fault, you worthless piece of trash" she screamed at me.
"You're the reason your father left us, if you'd been a better daughter maybe he wouldn't have left me to raise you, by myself" she sneered.
"You're so selfish; no wonder no one loves you. Your ugly, maybe if you'd of been prettier, he wouldn't of left me" she yelled at me.
I knew the real reason he left but it still hurt to be told this by my own mother as I fought to hold back the tears, I told her that I had to finish dinner if she wanted to eat tonight. I walked into the kitchen and cried while I finished the dinner. I dished it up for her, and took it to her with a bottle of beer, though she already had a bottle of vodka with her, that was almost gone.
" I'm going to bed mom, I've got to leave early in the morning, okay?" She didn't reply, so I just left, and went to bed.
Sitting in my room reading, I hear Phil arrive home. Oh joy. It has started, mom is giggling, now they are running up the stairs to their room. If I'm lucky she will wear him out and they will actually go to sleep tonight. I go to my computer desk, grab my iPod then go lay in bed. I turn it on to shuffle, turn the volume almost all the way up, so it's just about deafening me. I close my eyes, thinking of where I want to be right now, with my dad, in forks. Charlie. I don't really like the rain, it rains a lot there. I sometimes laugh at myself, wanting to live there when I don't like the rain. He would appreciate the effort I put in to my studies and the house. I have a four point zero average, but mom doesn't care neither does Phil. All they care about is themselves and money. I think about just taking some money, buying a plane ticket and leaving, going to forks. My dad wouldn't mind, in fact he has been hinting for me to go stay with him for a while now. Ugh. Great. My iPod just died. I take out my headphones; listen to see if they are finished. I can't hear anything so I put my iPod on the side table. Then I hear it, their bed squeaks as someone is getting out of their bed. I can hear the floor creak as they walk down the hallway. That's when I know. He's coming.
I pretend to be asleep so maybe he'll go away. Damn it. He isn't leaving, Oh no, it's going to happen again. Shit. I'm still sore from the last time; he is going to do it to me again. I can't hide the bruise anymore, blaming them on my clumsiness. I'm not really that clumsy anymore, my mom made me take ballet lessons when I was younger. He is just outside the door now maybe he will just go away and not do this tonight.
Maybe not, then goes the lock. "Click". Damn. Here we go again.
He thinks I'm asleep, but I'm wide awake. He is stroking my hair, telling me" you are so beautiful Bella, I have been thinking about this all day."
As his hands start traveling down my face, I can feel the tears welling up, but I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I swear he gets off on it most of the time anyway. I think he knows I'm awake now, he starts straddling me, I can't help it, and the tears start to fall.
He starts smirking, telling me "if you weren't so beautiful then I wouldn't have to do this to you, would I".
I know it is a rhetorical question so I don't answer. I can feel him start to take off my night shirt, his fingers trailing up and down my sides.
I don't want this again; I start to scream "STOP. Please stop. Not again please."
"Shut up, you little bitch" with that he punches me in the in the stomach. I start screaming again, so he punches me in the face. I start to black out, I try to get him to stop. He punches me in the face again and all I see is black.