Title: Paused
Word Count: 1,008

Keys:
"Talking"
'Thinking'
Emphasise
Emphasise - usually implies sarcasm

Prologue
...

Her heart thrummed against her chest, the sound resonating loudly through her ears making her wonder if everyone else could hear it too. Her eyes were glued to the ground, tears welling up as she bit her lips and tried to silently endure the pain she felt. For a second, her dull brown eyes fluttered towards her tiny wrist which was being gripped tightly by the hand of an older woman. The woman's unpractically long nails digging into the skin of her wrist but not enough to penetrate the skin. By now Chizue knew to recognize this not as concern but as caution, they were out in public after all. If someone were to notice a woman grasping a young girl's arm so tightly that it was bled - well, let's just say it wouldn't be a friendly sight.

Many times, she had contemplated screaming out as they walked the busy streets, yelling for anyone to save her. Yet she never could bring herself to do so, she always told herself that the risk was too high and the consequences of failure too severe, so she never took the chance.

However, she never missed the small chances she gained when the woman was preoccupied. She'd try to mouth "help" to the first person that her frantic eyes would meet. She'd even dropped a note in someone's bag once, but no one ever helped her. She never stopped though. Eventually, she became too desperate, the pleas of help became more frequent and less carefully planned. Sooner or later the woman was bound to catch her in the act, and that she did. The punishment wasn't anything Chizue ever want to relive, despite that she continued to silently ask for help. The woman began to watch her more closely.

Not too much time had passed since Chizue was first caught that the woman resorted to trapping her in her home and not letting her out for months on end. Though the woman wasn't as merciful as to end her punishment there, she would beat her every time she came home for her daily errands. The woman only stopped when Chizue was literally beaten to a bloody pulp. The next time Chizue walked out of that house she didn't dare to let her eyes stray from the ground.

As she laid on the cold, hard, ground, her long hair wet and stained red, her eyes swollen as tears continued to to leak from her burning eyes and stained her hollowed cheeks, she wondered if the heroes she'd hear about on the news channel the woman always watches were real or not.

The man with the microphone on screen always described them as brave, and willing to help anyone in pain. Many of the heroes themselves had said that whenever there is a cry for help, they're there to take down the bad guys and save the injured. She was in pain, she asked for help, she cried, yet the woman stood in front of her everyday ready to make her feel more pain. No hero ever broke down her door and came to save her.

There was this one hero she really liked, she even sneaks behind the woman's chair sometime and risks a beating just to see him on screen. All Might was his name. He was the only hero she remembered everything about. He always spoke about how he was obligated to save everyone in danger as long as he had the title of "Symbol of Peace"...yet he never saved her.

As the weeks bleed into months and eventually into years, a new question emerged; was there a reason no one saved her? Did she deserve the pain she was going through?

The beatings had always been bad, yet when she had turned four they reached an unbearable level. She began to long for the days of hairpulling, scratching, slapping and the occasionally punching as now she was met with bats, glass bottles and no food for weeks. She endured hours of physical torture yet the screams and shouts of hate always left her in more pain. After all, the woman who threw venomous words at her - who told her to die, who convinced her she deserved all the pain she received, she told her she was paying for the pain she caused others - never lied. She knew the woman wasn't lying. Why would her own mother lie to her?

Despite knowing she had to pay for her sins (whatever they may be), for years she clung onto the notion that someone would save her, someone would tell her she's done her part, that she's experienced enough pain to make up for the pain she's caused others, but no one ever came.

As more years passed, she started to question who she's hurt, she doesn't remember ever hurting anyone. What sin has she committed. She asked her mother and she received an answer. Her existence was a sin in itself. That day the beating had been more cruel and harsh then usual, yet the yells and demands to die were absent. That day, she stopped hoping for someone to save her...

...
Author note: I don't think I was able to convey everything I wanted to in this prologue but I think it has fulfilled its purpose in giving you a basic idea of how Chizue (my oc) lives her life. More information such as on her father and who exactly her mother is, will be revealed later on in the story. Though, I think a lot of people might begin to put two and two together about her mother in the next chapter, we'll also see a glimpse of her quirk.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Leave a comment and favorite, I would really appreciate it! Also, helpful criticism is always welcomed!