It wont be long now
She lay in a crimson bath, cuts all over her face and her body. Struggling to keep her fragile figure under the cold, icy water, with what little oxygen left in her lungs, slowly fading away. Her inner child desperately fighting for her life. It won't be long now. She was dying, a slow and very painful death. A death she thought she deserved.
She awoke to the dreary sound of her alarm clock buzzing, like it does everyday. She hit it with her bony hand and slowly dragged herself out of her poor excuse for a bed. A shiver of cold ran through her spine, as thoughts returned to her mind. She tried to breathe in fresh air among the stink of her tiny box room. Just like she does everyday. She took the few dreary steps to the bathroom, fumbling the doorknob and fell in. Then she stumbled towards the sink to brush her brittle teeth.Taking as much care as possible not to look in the mirror.
Finally she slowly rose her beaten face, looked up into the mirror and burst into tears. Two grey eyes staring straight back at her, she looked deep into them. Nothing. Empty. They no longer have the same sparkle; it had faded a long time ago. With that she turned to the bath and began to fill it up, as she did every day. She then retreated to her room and began undressing; she left her tattered clothes in a heap on the floor. Inspecting various bruises, burns and gashes that had been scarred onto her poor fragile body. She slowly trailed back into the bathroom and turned the taps off. She picked up her razor from the filthy self and slowly climbed into the steaming hot water. This is it. She thought solemnly to herself. It won't be long now. Soon all this will be over and I'll be able to be myself again.
She began scrubbing her brittle skin vigorously, willing the feeling of his lips on them to vanish. Just go away, why can't this feeling just go away? The result was the water she was soaking in turned into a sickly shade of red. The pain she was feeling was nothing compared to how she had felt inside. She felt tears trickle down her cheeks. She angrily wiped them with her bloody and soapy arm. Stop being stupid, there's no point in crying. The brown strands of her hair floated on the blood red water. She remembered him burying his hands in her hair. She never knew there would come a time when she would hate every inch of herself. She let out a strangled sort of cry as she buried her hands in her hair and pulled them out of her scalp. She lay there silently for a while. Her head throbbing with pain. She didn't feel it anymore, the pain she felt inside was so intense, any physical pain she was feeling didn't matter anymore. She remembered his clumsy hands all over her body.
It had been an average evening in the Thompson house; Hope waiting nervously with her petrified mother for him to come home. Their embrace was tight as he entered the house, drunk as always. What followed seems a blur to Hope now. He started yelling and screaming at them both. His face was fiery red and purple veins were sticking out of his forehead. He grabbed Hope and threw her across the room.
"Get out of my way you worthless piece of shit!!" his voice bellowed.
Slowly he walked up to Hope's mum, putting on a seductive smile.
"Hello my love, you're looking beautiful as always." His large clumsy fist hit hope's mum straight in the face.
"Very beautiful." He grabbed her by hair and began driving his fist into her fragile stomach. She fell to the ground, Hope let out a loud distressed scream, as she saw her poor mother lying motionless.
"You know I love you don't you," furthermore hits, punches and kicks to the head and body were forced upon Hope's mum, blood seeped from her open wounds.
"Get off her, Leave her alone!" Hope screamed from the floor, tears running down her face. I shouldn't have said that, if only I'd kept my big mouth shut.
He turned to face her anger and rage filled his face, his eyes filled with hatred for her.
"How DARE you talk to me, just the thought of you being in MY house sickens me!"
He walked away leaving Hope's mother lying motionless on the ground, but that was the least of Hope's worries, he was coming towards her. She stood up and tried to run away but he grabbed her before she could move. His hand came in contact with her small innocent face, she lost her balance and fell backward, it had hurt more than usual. As she sat there he kicked her tiny body and face, harder than usual into the wall. Pain surged through her brittle body. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't Dad, I love you, please don't.
She lay motionless on the cold floor for a while. He carefully picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Oh God, please no, anything but that. He threw her on top of her own bed and pinned her tinny wrists down clenching them tightly. His hard lips covered hers. It muffled her cries of pain as he entered her forcefully. After he was done he left her there, lying naked in her own bed, gasping, bloody and crying. How could he do this to his own daughter? I did nothing but love him.
But now poor Hope is, lying still in a bath filled with her own blood, slowly slipping away. My whole world is about to end in a matter of minutes. I can already feel myself slipping. My body feels heavier and my breathing more rapid. My heart has started to slow. It won't be long now. It won't be long now. Her weak body began to slowly sink deeper into the sea of red. All the pain will be over soon. She could feel her heart slowing. She was feeling dizzy. The ceiling of the bathroom was sharp one second and blurry the next.
The same moment kept playing over and over again in her mind. Stop, please stop I just want to forget, I can't take it any more! A fist, a foot, a punch, a kick. A scream, a shout, a pole, a stick. No please stop! I don't want to remember anymore. A fist, a foot, a punch, a kick. A scream, a shout, a pole, a stick. Tears trickled down her unseeing eyes. Her brain was growing numb. She held her breath, fighting the intense urge to exhale and take in another life giving air. Slowly, she let herself sink down to the water. I'm sorry. Forgive me for I had stopped living ever since he did this to me. You can't hurt me anymore. I'm free. I can finally be myself again.
She lay there in the blood stained bath, cuts all over her face and her body, still, no longer moving. No longer struggling to keep her fragile figure under the cold, icy water. All the oxygen from her weak lungs finally faded. Her inner child, no longer fighting for her life, she had lost the battle. No longer thinking it won't be long now. It was over.