"Mummy? Mummy, where are you going?" Tugging at mummy's sleeve I tried to pry her attention away from the door. But her hand was already on the handle – she didn't even look my way.

"Get outta my way you little brat, I shoulda left this house a long time ago and I'm not letting you spoil it." Not letting how she spoke to me deter me, I pulled a little harder. I didn't want mummy to leave me with the monsters in the house. Why would she do that? She… She knew what they'd do to me if she left. She knew.

"Mummy no! Don't leave me mummy please!"

"Stop making a scene, you'll wake your dad up." Finally turning towards me, I saw the glint shining through her eyes. She always had that dazed look, but I didn't understand why. It was like she wasn't actually here. Like she was possessed by something that wouldn't let her escape. "And you wouldn't want that, now would you?" She looked ready to throw me to the sharks. To throw me to him.

"No, mummy." Shaking my head, my pig-tails swung wildly from side to side. Before they could settle down though, she grabbed one of them and yanked down hard. "Owie! No! Stop!" A filthy hand came to rest over my mouth. I wish she'd stop, mummy was supposed to be my hero but instead she was doing the opposite – she wasn't saving me, she was condemning me to a life of pain.

"Now shaddup and be a good girl. I'm sure daddy will appreciate it." With that, she left. Leaving me confused and alone and hurt. My head was still sore. That didn't matter though, did it? Because a shadow had covered the view of the street. Daddy was here. I'd soon be in a lot more pain.

Gasping awake, I clutched at my chest, trying to calm down my beating heart. I hoped I hadn't screamed, the monster hit me harder when I woke him up whilst he had a hangover. And he was always hung over. The dream had been chasing me for the past 10 years. Even still, it put me close to tears every time.

That was the night my mum left me. The night I discovered that I was surrounded – no one would save me. I should've realised sooner that I was such a disgrace that no one would care if I got killed by my dad. But I had been 7, I couldn't help but hope.

Glancing at the alarm clock quickly, I saw it was 5am. I still had a while before he showed up so quickly getting dressed in my old sweater and jeans, I rushed to the kitchen. I was supposed to make all the meals in this house (including lunch, despite the fact that I was at school during that), meaning that an early start never hurt. The tiredness in my muscles would but at least that wouldn't be joined by a beating.

Before that fateful night when mum left us, dad had only beaten her. Whenever he tried to lay a hand on me he went into a sort of daze, and as mum glared him down, he'd leave the room. The screams from their bedroom when that happened were always worse. I think mum did something to him. He must've realised this just like I did. But I digress: the minute she abandoned me and no one was left, he started hitting me. He even blamed me for her disappearance, despite me having been the one to beg her to stay.

Flipping a pancake on the stove, I continued to reminisce. I was never alone with my thoughts so I appreciated these times when my dad's shouting didn't overcrowd me, or back me up into a corner. Quickly finishing up, I set the table and went back to the stove. It was 5:30 and I still needed to make lunch. I must've been slower than usual. Sighing and shaking my head at myself, I picked up the pace. I couldn't afford to be late.

Whilst doing my morning routine as fast as I could, I caught my reflection in one of the dark windows. My mousy, blond hair had stuck up in tufts all around me, giving me an excuse to take a break for a second to pat it all down. I couldn't do anything about my eyes though – they always looked frantic, like I was constantly searching for an exit that wasn't there. But that was what I was doing, so I wasn't too hard on myself over it.

"Petal! Breakfast better be ready by the time I come down!" Jumping away from the window in shock, I finished placing the plate in the microwave. I wouldn't want it to go cold. Last time I did that he made me stick my hand in ice for 30 minutes. Needless to say, my hand was still recovering from that.

"It is daddy." He was clomping down the stairs, making a ridiculous amount of excessive noise. He was deafening to be around, especially considering the stark contrast with me. I made it a habit to never make the floorboards creak, to never speak up. My life was surrounded by silence. At least, until he came.

I was still facing the microwave, trying to ignore something which I would soon be forced to endure. The morning had begun. And it normally started with a couple of slaps to the face. My fists had clenched subconsciously, as I smelt the reek of alcohol which seemed impregnated to him. Normally it wasn't that strong but today… Today he was standing closer. Too close.

"Hello darling." Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. This was so bad it was unreal. When he'd come up from behind me and put his arms around my waist I thought he was only going to turn me around so he could get a clean shot at my stomach. But he wasn't turning me around for that purpose, and I realised that too late, when his lips were already on mine. I was ramrod straight, all of the muscles in my back tightening in fear. I had school in half an hour, maybe I could use it as an excuse? "I've got a client coming in later tonight. He ordered one of my services that isn't on the list. He wanted you. Just for the night. And it's made me think, y'know? I haven't really been making use of you apart from cleaning and cooking, but maybe it's time I do. After all, you are a grown woman, aren't you?" I was shaking in fear, my knees feeling week. This couldn't be happening.

I'd expected him to try to do something to my body, after all he hadn't held himself back when it came to hurting me, so why wouldn't he do it in every way he could? Yet after the years passed, I'd relaxed slightly, convinced he wasn't that much of a monster. Perhaps I'd been mistaken.

"And I feel in the mood for it today, so I was thinking you take the day off school and I warm you up for my friend. How does that sound, Petal?" The way he said my name sent shivers running down my back, but I swallowed it down, clutching my fists to my sides. I didn't want to do this. I really really didn't. So instead of saying anything, I just stood there, only being held up by his hands. "I asked you a question!" Before I knew what was happening, I had been thrown half way across the room. Maybe being unconscious for this wouldn't be so bad.

"No dad please. Don't!" But he was climbing on me already, and there was nothing I could do.

That day, I lost the last part of myself.

Hi :)
I know this was kind of a depressing chapter but I promise it'll get happier :) I haven't been on fanfiction in ages, this is the first story I've uploaded in a while, so I hope you guys like it!
It's going to be about Gray (Sky and Zed's son) and Petal, and i'm really excited about this! Anyways, I'm not Joss Stirling, as you could've probably guessed now, and if you leave me some feedback in the comments about what you think, that'd be amazing :)
Bye bye ^.^