Trigger warning: violence, rape, child abuse (like lots of it in a serious amount)

first time writing actual scenes with these so critics are welcomed

Read at your own risk

Clara watched as John drove away on his moped into the night. She had felt so free, so happy around him. Clara knew he wasn't okay. She knew he was sad, and maybe even more than that, because of his friends' accident and she wanted to heal him. She really did. But how could she heal someone when she didn't feel any better?

The young brunette looked towards the red door with a sign reading "Oswald". She had to go in there. The young brunette took a deep breath and walked towards the door, opening it slowly. Hoping- no, praying, that her dad was asleep.

"See?" She heard her dad say from the living room. Clara shivered at the sound of his voice. Of course he was awake. "A lot better to be with boys!" The brownhaired man said, his eyes locked on Clara.

"John is just a friend, dad, and I love Debbie. I really do." Clara answered determined. Dave Oswald let out a sigh and walked towards her. "Of course you wouldn't understand that", She added. She knew she souldn't say against him. She had learned that so many years ago when it first started. Clara tried not to seem scared, tried so hard to seem unaffected by the look in his eyes. The hateful, hungry stare in his chocolate eyes.

She remembered all the times she had stood against him. It had gone alright when her mum was at home, but she had worked late very often, so there were many times it had ended painfully and difficult to hide the next day. And now that her mum was gone, he was alone with her all the time.

She stood there, slithering a bit up and down, avoiding eyecontact, when she felt the smack across her face. Clara stumbled a bit in suprise and felt a punch in her stomach, which made her lose her breath and fall to the ground.

She started to sob as he kicked her and eventually, after what felt like hours, he stopped and Clara stumbled her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

The next day had gone no better. Her father was still angry with her and the tiniest thing could give her a punishment.

Clara thought of the day her mum died. How she had held her hand in the hospital and felt her dads eyes in her neck. Her mums very last words to her had been "I love you", and it left Clara devastated when her mum had died before Clara could say that she loved her too. She knew from the drive back home that her dad couldn't be happier for her mum being out of the way. Had he ever loved her? Even for a second?

"Did you want mum dead?" Clara asked before she could stop herself. The words had slipped and now she was going to pay for it. "What?" Dave asked looking at her with the same stare as the day before.

"Nothing", Clara answered, but too quickly. "What did you say?" He knew exactly what she said, bue he wanted an excuse, though he didn't need one. Clara didn't answer, just looked down at her hands and started to bite her bottom lip.

She heard her dad let out a breath and saw his shoulders relaxing. Had he calmed down? Clara decided he had and tried to, slowly to not wake attention, stand up and move away, but she felt a hand gripping her hair and dragging her towards the stairs.

Clara whimpered in pain, and she felt herself being pushed into her bed and her dad pinning her down. She started to sob uncontrollably as he started to rip off the green dress she remembered Debbie had told her to buy, leaving her in her underwear which was next to be torn off her body.

"No, please!" She screamed as he started unzipping his pants, which was received by yet another smack. "You know you're not allowed to scream! If somebody hears you, you'll regret it!" He hissed and started to thrust into her.

Clara opened her eyes and the frantic buzzing of her alarm clock slowly came to her attention. "8:12" Shit! She had overslept and had about fifteen minutes to cover up the bruises in her face, eat breakfast and catch the bus.

She jumped out of bed, but everything suddenly turned black and she fell down again. The wooden floor was cold to her naked and bruised body. Clara let out a sigh and tried to stand up again, this time it went better and she quickly jumped into her clothes. A black dress with floral pattern and a grey cardigan.

Now for the face. The bruises covering her face were a challenge and when they all were nicely hidden she grabbed a müsli bar and ran through the door. She missed the bus, but there was no way she was going to be late on her second week. Not Clara Oswald.

She was late, though, and interuppted Mrs Kovarion's explanation of whatever it was on the blackboard.

"Miss Oswald, nice of you to turn up", She said as she wrote something down in a book. Probably something about her being sixteen minutes late for class. With a heavy breath she dumped down on the chair beside John and opened her book, though she didn't hear a word of what Mrs Kovarion said, she only came with half answers to what John told her and her mind constanly travelled back to the past two days.

"What's wrong, Clara?" John asked as he put down his lunch tray and sat down beside her in the cafeteria. "Nothing", Clara answered plainly. "I'm fine", "No, you're not. You're everything but fine. Take it from someone who knows", He answered and took her hand. "What's wrong?" He asked his eyes meeting hers.

John looked down at her arms now truly seeing them. There were some bruises there, in a deep purple colour, wrapping around her wrists. Clara noticed him looking and quickly covered them up with her cardigan. "What was that?" He asked quietly. "Nothing, I- I've got to go", She said and got up in a hurry. "Clara!" He called after her, but she had ran out.

He tried to follow her but bumped into exactly the ones he didn't want to see: Harry Saxon and his friends, joyned by the sports gang. Harry Saxon was probably one of the richest people on the school. He and his friend got everything they wanted when they wanted it, and was extremely popular. Jake Brown, the keeper for the football team, was a childhood friend of Harry and was therefore the reason why Harry's gang and Jake's gang were nearly the same thing.

"Stalking the girls now, John?" Harry asked with a crooked smile. Sadly enough, Harry was annoyingly good looking with blond hair, not overly exaggurated cheekbones and honey eyes. "None of your buisness, Harry", John hissed. "I think it is, see, she just ran away, she doesn't want you", Harry continued.

"Of course she doesn't want him, who would?" A girl called Annie who sat behind Jack said with a grin consisting of 90% pink lipgloss.

"She's gay, she's my friend and she's upset, get out of my way!" John barked, he was getting extremely impatient now, he needed to talk to her.

"You don't talk to my girlfriend like that!" Jack bellowed and walked towards John. "i wasn't just talking to her. Get out of my way, all of you!"

"You think that you of all people can tell us what to do?" Jack continued, "Nobody likes you! The only people who ever did died!"

"They were probably just faking it so that he wouldn't feel bad!" Harry added and everybody laughed, that was when the punches started flying.