May 17, 2011

Have you ever had one of those days where you just can't take it anymore? Everything is wrong. You can't go on. You just feel like your dying inside, waiting for all this shit to end. I can't do this I can't do this I can't do this; you just keep repeating that over and over to yourself. Everything you do seems to be wrong. Everyone expects everything from you and you can't live up to their expectations. All you can do is nod your head and say, "Fine" or "I'll do better." Then when you try to tell them something is bothering you, they won't listen. They'll call you ungrateful, hit you, throw you on the floor, kick you, or worse. And you can't do anything about it. You can't fight back and the worse part about it is that you can't get anyone to believe you.

- Stormy

"STORMY!" My father yelled, barged through my bedroom door, and ripped the thick notebook I was writing in out of my hands. He had practically broken the door when it slammed into the wall behind it. I jumped startled. Was he really doing this again? Can't I ever get a break? My thoughts were interrupted by a tearing sound. I looked up to see my notebook torn in half. I watched helplessly as he flinged it across the room and into my wall. Then he used his left arm and wiped everything off my dresser, sending picture frames crashing to the floor. The glass shattered and I knew what was coming next. This kind of thing had become a pattern; there was no use in fighting it. Sadly, I had to learn that the hard way.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He slurred as the back of his right hand slapped me across my face, I felt the force send my head in the other direction, making me yelp in pain. I found myself wishing he wasn't so physically strong; it would make this hurt a lot less. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to look into the eyes of the man who constantly and brutally tortured me.

This man wasn't my father. He was a monster made from the devil himself. His face, touch, words everything about him poisoned my mind and controlled every thought that ran through my head. I can't escape him. Even if I ran away from here, he would still haunt my mind until the day I die.

"Answer me!" He yelled picking me up by the collar of my shirt. He brought his face inches from mine; letting me smell the strong alcohol breath he had after drinking his daily dose of vodka. I kept from looking at him and tried covering my face with my long brown hair. If he saw me crying, I would really get the worse of his wrath. I wasn't crying because I was in pain, I was crying because I was scared.

"I said answer me you bitch!" And with that, he threw me to the hard wood floor of my bedroom. My head clashed with the floor and I blacked out for a few seconds. When I opened my eyes, I was staring up at the man who I knew would be the death of me before I would be able to get out of this shit hole. Death didn't sound too bad right now though. "N-Nothing…" I said finally answering him in a shaky voice. His cold black eyes stared down at me, pinning me to the floor. I knew he wasn't done with me yet. He would have more of me.

He picked me up by the hair, bringing my face at his level once again. His black eyes were digging into my watery blue ones. I could barely hold back the tears as the weight of my body was putting a strain on my head. My legs were dangling helplessly. I wanted to beg him to stop pulling my hair, but I knew that I would seem weaker than I already look.

"You're weak." He spat out with so much hate and disgust in his voice. It was like I was the most ugly, horrible, disgusting thing he's ever seen. "I hate you for all that you are. You're just like you're mother." He continued with more hatred in his voice. My fear, suddenly, turned to anger.

"DON'T YOU DARE BRING MOM INTO THIS!" I yelled and kicked him in the balls as hard as I could. My mother was a topic worth fighting for. I was dropped immediately as he clutched his private place in pain. "You bitch!" He hissed in a choked voice. I was my chance to run, but there was no point in doing that. He would catch me one way or another. I closed my eyes and grew still on the hard wood floor. I listened as I heard him recovering from my blow. I could hear the creak of my bed as he used it for support to get up. It was coming…

Thump…Thump…Thump…

The beating of my heart matched with the sound of my father's footsteps as he limped toward me. It was as if time had stopped in that exact moment and the events of my life flashed through my eyes. I relived all the beatings and all the pain in that very moment.

Thump…Thump…Thump…

He was getting closer…I could still run if I gained the will, but didn't have any more strength in me. I knew I should be accustomed to it, but each beating kept getting worse and worse. I didn't know how much more I could take. Every step he took was killing me inside.

Then the footsteps stopped and it felt as if my heart did too. My mind focused on his slow, deadly breathing. My heart was beating faster now. I knew it was coming. My eyes were still closed, but I knew he was there, his presence overwhelming me.

"Please…don't…" I begged and held in a sob. I felt his firm hands place themselves on my waist, turning my over so I was laying on my stomach. The sob escaped my lips as I realized what he was planning to do. "No…" I cried and tried to get up, but he pushed me back down. He maneuvered himself so he was sitting on my back, straddling my waist. He used one to grab my hair and pull my head back. "You're going to pay." He growled.

The pain and torture continued that night and my will to go on was thinning.

A/N: So what do you think? I hope you enjoyed reading it.

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Thanks for reading!

- Lyssa789