Redemption
I hope you like it. Jesus did a wonderful thing on that cross. He is the best in everything. Jesus is love and I love Him.
I did not write the Bible. How old do you think I am?
Chapter 1: Abuse
Four-year- old Rachel sat in the attic. Her father locked her in there. It was her room as some people would say. It was not pleasant though. There was no bed. She only had one toy. It was a Build-A-Bear Girl Scout Teddy Bear. Her name was Julie. There was no warmth, except from the small quilt her uncle gave her.
Her uncle was the best. He gave her stuff. The only things she was allowed to keep from her uncle was Julie, the quilt, and a little cross necklace. She was an Atheist as her parents called it for no other reason than there was no god anywhere that she had heard of.
The door unlocked. Her head jerked up and she whimpered. When that door opened there was always pain even if her uncle was coming over. The pain was almost unbearable, but she held on for her uncle. Her uncle kept her alive. He was everything to her. He was not mean and never hit her. He never said anything mean to her like her father.
"There's my baby," said her father. If she didn't know him, she would have thought he had changed, but she did and she knew he would never change.
"Father, are you going to beat me?" asked Rachel. She was not allowed to call him daddy because that would show care and he didn't care for her. He got rid of that fast. Every time she would call him daddy, she would be beaten with the belt.
The belt was her father's big, leather belt. It hurt. He would hit her across her face, her bottom, and her back. She would be left stiff for months. She would always be in pain and then whenever there was a visitor she had to pretend she wasn't in pain. If she even let the slightest bit of pain show, she'd be beaten with the whip.
The whip was a long tied piece of rope. It would leave burns and cuts. It would leave long red marks. It would leave blood over her shirt.
She had one oversized shirt. She had one baggy pair of pants. No shoes. No socks. She had a large bucket filled with ice cold water and soap to bathe in. In other words, her life stinks.
"Of course," said her father, Randy. He grabbed her hair and lifted her off the floor. She dropped Julie. She was thrown across the room. She got scraped up and a couple of floor burns (I did know what to call them). He kicked her in the gut. She let out an almost inaudible whimper. Her father lifted her up and threw her into the ground. He then kicked her again. He punched her in the gut. She then whimpered.
"Father, why do you hit?" asked Rachel.
"Because I hate you," answered Randy.
"Why?" she asked. He growled and left his child alone. She undressed herself. She stiffly crawled into the bathtub. It was cold and hurt her wounds. She gently lowered herself. The pain and stiffness did not stop. In fact, it increased. She took the soap and started crying as she washed her wounds. She heard her father laughing.
She took her clothes and slowly put her clothes back on. She was so stiff and this hurt so bad. Her whole body hurt. She slowly crawled to her quilt and Juliette.
"Julie, why does my father hate me?" asked Rachel," I didn't do anything!"
"Oh, yes, you did," said Randy.
"What, father?" asked Rachel.
"You were born," said Randy," How many times have I told you not to talk to that stinking teddy bear?"
"A lot," said Rachel.
"What did I tell you I would do to her if you continued talking to her?" asked Randy.
"No, Daddy, don't burn Julie! Please!" Rachel begged. He snatched Julie from Rachel. Rachel started sobbing. Julie was her only friend.
Her father came back with the belt. Rachel whimpered. She knew what she did. She called him daddy. She walked up to him with her head hung low. She was hoped he wouldn't hit her in the face.
"Lift your face, brat," Randy commanded. Rachel lifted her face and Randy saw tears falling from her eyes.
"Crying. You must really want to be punished today," said Randy, and he laughed evilly. Rachel wiped her tears away. He lifted the belt. He hit her across the face once. Then he growled. Rachel looked up and saw her uncle's hand around her father's wrist.
"What in the world do you think you're doing?" asked her uncle, Joe, in a dangerous tone.
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