Jonas Brother's fanfic
Characters:
Frankie Jonas- 12
Kaytee Carmichael- 17
Amelia Cortez- 20 3s
Nick Jonas- 20
Kelly Johnson- 22 /3s
Joe Jonas- 22
Natasha Rhodes- 24 3s
Kevin Jonas- 25
'Uncle' James McCaffrey-39
Al Mortimer- 42
Denise Jonas- 45 3s
Kevin Jonas- 46
...…
Story:
Chapter 1:
"Kaytee! Get your stupid, fat, lazy arse in here. NOW!"
I sighed, just a typical Sunday night, hell, just a typical night in this household. I trudged into the kitchen wondering what I was supposed to have done now.
"Yes Uncle James?" I asked
"Where is my favourite shirt? You were supposed to have had it dry cleaned and ready for me! Where the fuck is it?" he screamed
"It's where all the dry cleaning goes when I bring it back, hung up in your wardrobe" I replied.
SMACK!
I stumbled back from the sheer force of the hit, banging my hip on the table.
"Don't you smart mouth me, you little slut! After all I've done for you! You're nothing but an ungrateful whore! Just you wait till I get back tonight; I'll show you just how much of a whore you really are" he sneered.
Tears prickled my eyes but I willed them not to fall. I kept my eyes cast downwards. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. With one last punch, this time to my ribs, I slid down to the floor. James left the kitchen, making sure to step on me on his way out. I stayed in my foetal position until I heard the front door slam, indicating he'd gone to the pub and I had a few hours to myself.
I picked myself up and made my way to my en-suite. I looked in the mirror to observe the damage. He was smart, my hair would cover up the bruises to the side of my head and of course, no-one would see the marks upon my ribs. I touched them lightly, hissing in pain. Thankfully they weren't as bad as what they usually were but the night was far from over. I spent the next few hours going through the nightly cleaning schedule, only having a small jam sandwich to satiate my hunger.
Once I'd finished I crawled into my bed and snuggled deep into the quilts. I prayed that James would stay out tonight, that he wouldn't come home for once. I heard the front door slam and heavy footsteps up the stairs. My heart sank; again it looked like my prayers weren't going to be answered. I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped that tonight would be different.
A loud creak sounded throughout the room as the door opened and he approached my bed. He dragged me from it and threw me across towards the door. He continued to kick, slap and punch me. I think he also bit my shoulder at one point but the pain was too much to feel it properly. It went on for what seemed hours before he launched me back onto my bed and left, slamming the door on the way out. I curled up in a ball under my covers, tears streaming down my face. Eventually my breathing evened out and I began to drift off into a deep sleep already dreading the nightmares that I knew would come. Out of one hell, straight into another, neither or which I could ever escape.
11 years since this all began, every single night this has happened, no matter how much I begged God to make it stop. Four thousand and fifteen nights of pure torture and I wasn't sure how many more I could survive through.