Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect
Chloe doubled over in agony. Her father stood over her while rubbing his sore knuckles. He sneered down at her, and swiftly kicked her in the side. A small groan escaped her lips as she grasped her side in an attempt to ease the pain. The man standing in front of her had a sick smile on his face as he pulled her by the hair roughly.
The redhead cried in protest, but he slapped her. She bit her bottom lip to stifle the shriek that threatened to form in her throat. Crying out only resulted in another wave of assault. Mr. Beale threw her away from him, and Chloe staggered to remain on her feet. Her father crossed his arms as he debated over whether she had enough or not.
His daughter had silent tears streaming down her face. Her mouth was firmly shut, and her nose twitched as she sniffled. He narrowed his eyes in contemplation. Chloe stood tall; Even though it caused her more harm than good. She could feel the bruising of her ribs, but the redhead refused to let the man before her know just how much agony her body was taking.
" Did you learn this time?" Mr. Beale asked. Chloe held back the scowl that was already forming.
" Yes, sir." She spat.
" I don't want to do this to you. It's just that you just don't seem to learn." He defended with a fake apologetic tone. Her father walked over to her, and raised a hand. Chloe flinched violently, but he placed his palm on her shoulder.
" I understand." The redhead said flatly. Mr. Beale's smile was forced as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. His daughter had to prevent the shudder that was making its way down her spine. She felt nothing less than disgusted with the man she called daddy.
" Good. Now next time you'll make sure not to wrinkle my shirt." He growled. Chloe winced, swallowed down her hatred, and nodded quietly.
" Yes, sir." She hissed. His jaw locked, and his grip tightened on her shoulder. The redhead whimpered lightly, but made no movement.
Mr. Beale nodded wordlessly, and turned on his heel to return to his room. Meanwhile, Chloe bent over to pick up his shirt. In her movement, she gasped as pain shot through her. She fell to her knees, but continued to pick up the wrinkled buttoned up shirt that lay sprawled across the floor. Hatred burned in her veins for the man, but she felt powerless to do anything. No matter how hard she fought back, he hit harder.
A small sigh slipped her mouth, and she slowly hoisted herself off the floor with the cause of the beating firmly in her hand. Chloe walked towards the washroom, and flung the shirt into the dryer to lessen out the wrinkles. When she turned around, her mother stood with a wounded expression on her features. As far as the redhead was concerned, her mother's half-assed apologies and excuses meant nothing to her.
" Save it." Chloe ordered while pushing past the older woman.
Following her daughter's wishes, Mrs. Beale kept her mouth closed. All her life, she made her daughter empty promises, and every single time they slipped through the cracks. The aging woman swore repeatedly that things would change, and after every swear, there was only disappointment. After some time, Chloe eventually learned to let the promises of fortune to go in one ear, and out the other. Promises were lies.
The redhead hurried as fast as she could concerning her ribs up the stairs. Once she made it to her room, she quietly closed the door; No matter how hard she wanted to slam it repeatedly. Chloe slowly slid down the door; Her tears mirroring it. After a minute of self-pity, the seventeen year old wiped her tears away, and put herself together once again. Her daily facade was all she had left.
It seems all she was worth was the lies her entire life was based on. No one knew what happened behind closed doors, and that was the way the Beales liked it. Not even Aubrey, Chloe's best friend knew. Oh how the redhead yearned for the sweet bliss that was ignorance. Yet in that moment, her blonde friend was ready to have the rug ripped from under her.
The redhead knew it seemed selfish to have Aubrey's state of mind bombarded, but when she really thought about it, the whole situation was selfish to her for not speaking up about it. Maybe it was time for things to end. However, who's to say things would really end? Not her, not Aubrey; Hell, not even her father. It was all up to a little hope, and a huge miracle.
In that moment, a miracle seemed farfetched, and hope was a foreign concept. However, maybe a little help was a way to get the ball rolling. So, with a new found determination, the girl grabbed her phone, and dialled the number she knew by heart. One ring. Two rings. Three rings; Her determination was fading quickly, and depression set in. It was crippling her by the minute. When all seemed lost, a spark of hope surged through her in the sound of her best friend's voice.
" Hello?" Aubrey answered. That was all it took for the dams to break.
" Aubrey?" Chloe sobbed uncontrollably.
" Chlo? What happened? What's wrong?" The blonde inquired with urgent worry.
" I have to tell you something." Was all the redhead choked out before Aubrey responded.
" I'm on my way." She replied before Chloe hung up. Now all she had to do was wait. Wait and hope her blonde haired friend didn't run into her father first. Please don't make me regret this.
