Daddy, Don't Hurt Me
Warning: For Mature audiences only. Not because of Lemony goodness, but because of issues of abuse and language. Not for the faint of heart.
Author's Note: Hopefully, my formatting is getting better. This is my new fiction. Don't worry, Consequences will still get updated regularly. This piece though, just had to be written. It's close to my heart, and will be violent at times. But, since it is listed under romance, expect the later chapters to delve into that area a bit more. Bare with the pain.
Prologue
1995
"Serena, God Dammit! You come out here!" His screeching voice could be heard from the living room.
Serena Connor hid in her closet. He was angry again.
Probably drunk too.
"You stupid child! Your fucking toys about near killed me again!" The ten year old quivered in fear. He was really angry. It had been a few months since he screamed that loud. Once he found her, she knew she'd be in trouble.
Hide. She kept telling herself. Hide, and pray that he doesn't find you.
"Serena, I swear to God if you don't come out this instant, you are going to be sorry when I find you."
Her heart thumped wildly against her chest. It was just a toy. What was the big deal? Didn't he watch where he was going. The fear in her heart welled up. He would find her.
Pray that he doesn't find you.
He always did though. The closet was dark. Toys of every shape and size filled it to the brim. Her mother doted on her, giving her barbies and blocks, but her favorite was stuffed bears. Right now the big white one she received a month ago when her father, Ken, had lashed out on her, covered her small frame.
Pray that he doesn't find you.
Her head spun when the closet door flung open.
"Serena. I know you are in here. This is your favorite hiding place, you little devil of a child."
Don't move. If you don't move, he won't find you.
Close your eyes.
I can't see him. He can't see me.
I can't see him. He can't see me.
I can't see - cold flooded her body as the embrace of the big bear left her body.
Her father's wicked grin curved upwards as he looked upon her liquid blue orbs filled with terror. He found her.
"There you are, you little bitch." His big, calloused hand came down and tugged at her long golden tresses. A yelp of pain barely reached her throat as she tried to repress it.
Two months ago her mother had taken her to a salon to cut the beautiful locks off. Now, as he drug her out of the closet by them, they didn't seem so precious.
She remembered screaming at the hairdresser until her mother had pulled her by the arm out of the parlor, red with embarrassment. In the parking lot, she scolded her. That was no way to behave at the age of ten.
If only she would have listened then.
His hand came flying down against her cheek. Pain seared through her, making her head throb.
What did she do to deserve this?
Throwing her down against the wall, she shielded her head, letting her body crash into the thick wood panel of her room. Before she could gain composure from the last two blows, he pulled her again by her hair and shoved a small toy in her face.
A tiny baby for her Barbie dolls. The newest edition to her ever-growing toy collection.
"You see this?" He spat in her face. Eyes bulged in rage, he shoved the doll into her chubby nose.
"Yes..." She cried out. Maybe this time if she acted guilty he wouldn't hurt her anymore.
"I tripped over this piece of shit, because you didn't clean up after yourself. You are just about as worthless as your mother, you little bitch. That's okay though, I'll teach you and her both a lesson." With finality, he grabbed her by the forearm and yanked her into the living room of their tiny trailer.
He slammed her down into the middle of the floor. Unbuckling his belt, he fumbled to get it off, overjoyed, it seemed, to use it on his defenseless daughter.
"Take off your shirt," he commanded.
Wide-eyed, she looked up and pleaded with him, "Daddy...Please, don't hurt me."
Seeming to ignore his daughter's cries he again screamed, "Take off your damn shirt, or I will for you!"
Knowing that anymore pleas would be futile, she pulled off her shirt, and huddle on the floor, her back exposed to him.
His belt came down on her with a crack. She screamed and jumped at each hit of the belt.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
His manic eyes continued staring at the welts he was making on his daughter's back. After he had hit her a good fifteen times he stopped.
Serena lay on the floor, sobs heaving as she tried to breathe through them.
"Maybe you will finally get the message, you little bitch, to keep your Goddamn toys off the floor." He kicked her for good measure and turned to the corner of the room.
A thin, frail looking woman sat in the corner. Her wiry blonde hair seemed unkempt and her clothes hung from her body. Appearances didn't matter to this worn-down woman with bags under her eyes. Only the can in her left hand seemed to matter. She swung back another drink of the beer and her blue eyes collided with her husband's menacing ones.
"I hope that was as good for you as it was for me."
He walked out into the kitchen to grab another beer as Serena limped back into her room to find solace with her bears.
End Prologue
Take a deep breath and pat yourself on the back. You made it through those 880 gruesome words.
Kudos.
I hope to update this later this week, if not next week.
Until then, Review and tell me what you think.
Be honest.
Although, some may have not heeded my warnings, this piece is not going to be fluff, perse, normal fluff. I am already delving into deep water here, and hopefully, I will do the characters justice along the way. And no, I don't take abuse lightly.