He hit me. Again. He slapped me, causing me to fall on my already bruised body, yelping as he yanked me up by my long, dark, hair that fell to my elbows when I stood. My eye was puffed up and I suspected it was black. Blood trickled out from my nose and mouth and dripped onto my white t-shirt. I winced as quietly as I could, knowing he would hit me again if he heard it. He shoved me into the living room and didn't follow. Thankfully, I scrambled up the stairs into my room, locking it behind me. Sighing deeply, I went into my bathroom and looked at my injuries in the mirror. As I suspected, my nose and mouth bled and my left eye was black. I turned my back to the mirror and looked over it, my back and arms were bruised as well, some blood coming from a few. I sighed again and striped down, stepping into the shower and letting the warm water slip over my body and soothe the pain that was radiating of my body. I moaned in relief as I slipped into a white dressing gown and fell onto the bed, letting my mind and body shut of and peep into a sleeping wonderland.

A soft light came in my window, shining on my face. I stirred, pulling out of my dream about the beach and into the real world. Downstairs, I yeard yelling, my father's. There was also a soft murmer after each yell. Some one else was here, I couldn't let him hurt another, even if it meant hurting me more. I sprang from the bed and ran down the stairs into the living room where two men and my father sat on the sofa. The two men, one with black hair and the other with brown, they both stood in my presence and my father turned too, dtaying seated. He growled and barked at me to go back to my room. I didn't answer, my thought were set on the men. Their eyes were a pale green and both sets of eyes were on me the whole time. "Go to you room, devil child!" I snapped my head away and looked over at him, my anger built up. You can do this. You have been pushed around by him for too long! Moving into the living room and sitting on the chair in the far corner, as the other men sat too and continued their conversation with my father who was glaring at me with his dark brown eyes.
"As we said before," the black haired man said, "We have received many complaints from a range of your worried neighbours."
"I dont give one damn about what they've said!" He yelled at him, the man not moving the slightest bit. "I've been in the town for as long as I've lived, and I will until I die!"
"There is no need to yell Mr. Seale," The other, brown haired man spoke up, "We would just like to speak to her alone for a few moments to set things straight and we will be on our way." He continued, "If these rumors are true, I'm afraid we will have to make some," He paused, trying to find the right word, "changes...to your family." My heart lurched, thumping against my ribcage and for half a second, I stopped breathing. They were from the child protection agency. "Took you long enough to get here..." I mumbled to myself, the men both looked at me at the exact same time and I blushed when they smiled at me.

After a few more minutes of my father yelling at them, the men came up with a plan and I caught on quickly as one of the men asked to use the bathroom. Slipping out behind him, I followed him up the stairs, just before he turned, he gave me a cute smile that made me feel lik emy insides just melted. I stopped for about a half a second, then kept walking, holding myself together as best I could. When I reached the top of the stairs, he pulled me into my mother and father's old room which was now full of my mother's old stuff, packed in boxes. He pulled me close to him and I gasped almost silently as our chests met and he stepped back, "Sorry." I shook it off and that smile crossed his face, then faded.
"So, about your father?" I bit my lip, scared of what he will think. After taking a deep breath, I began telling his about my mother and about how she left, and he took his anger out on me, and hs been for eight years. When I was finished, tears stained my cheeks and we sat on blue crates inthe corner of the room. He leaned into me, and wiped away an escaped tear.
"You," He said as he stood, "are coming back with me."
"W-where?" I stuttered, was this guy some kind of pedophiale? If he was, he was a hot pedophiale.
"To the boarding school." The smile flashed back on his face and I followed him back down the stairs to where the dark haired man sat with my father looking rather frustrated. My father was still yelling and the man stood as we entered.
"Rather long bathroom trip, dont you think?" My father growled.
"We will be leaving now, sorry to have disutrbed your night." With one last glance, the brown haired man slipped a peice of paper into my hand. The door shut a few seconds later, and I immediately ran to my room and locked the door. My father's footsteps followed and I ran towards the window and sat on the window seat. I read the note;

Rochelle,
Your have five minutes until we pick you up. Pack a few things, climb out the window and wait at the curb.
-T.

I did a the note said, I couldn't take one more day of my father beating me till I bled. I packed the photo of my mother from my beside table, a few tapes of my mother and I when I was young and the bracelt Carlos had given me before he died. Carlos...that was a name I hadn't heard in a while. A name I missed. I glanced at the clock on the wall, and sighed, looking around my room. "Goodbye..." I whispered, as I climbed out of the window and into the tree. I slipped down the tree and sat bye it for a minute. What if 'T' isn't who you think he is? I pushed the thought out of my mind, I stood, took a deep breath and headed to the curb.

My head turned back and I looked in the window of my house. "Curse you old man." I turned and kept walking, not looking back once.