I whimpered softly as to not let him hear from the door of my room. I knew what was already coming; the pain that would never be gone as well as the scars engraved in my mind. Every blow, every cut, every wound was another part of me.

I stopped believing in God; stopped believing in everyone. Who was there to come and save me from every beating that my father gave me, every night at the exact same time?

No one. I had lost all hope by now.

Maybe if I opened my mouth and told someone about what my father did, I'd be saved. But I had heard nearly all of the threats that he knew of, and nonetheless they terrified me. I kept my mouth shut.

"Where were you?" He slurred, and I could almost see him from the back of my mind; his body slouched, his feet feeling like weights every step that he took. I swallowed hard before opening my eyes.

"At school," I replied softly. "For the play."

"The play!" He chuckled to himself, repeating the words over and over like they were some lame excuse. I would fight if I could, but I didn't have enough strength to even speak up anymore. "No, Clare, you're family is more important to you than some stupid play."

I fought back the urge to talk back as he walked closer to me, and I snuck a peek from under my eyelids. He had no bottle this time-that was a good thing. I had suffered punches from him but they weren't nearly as worse as glass.

I prayed to God while I had the chance before I was a victim to being beaten breathless blow after blow. I prayed that I would go to heaven safely, and that no one would mourn my disappearance.

I waited. Waited. Waited for the pain that would come. I could almost feel it any second now; what was he waiting for? The suspense became too much to handle, making me open my eyes for the shortest second.

He was still there, but he was looking around my room. He had been so occupied with beating me that he hadn't looked at the décor. I glanced at him as he stared up at the pictures I had on my wall, and I could see exactly which ones he was looking at; the only pictures I had taken with Eli. I closed my eyes shut again, not wanting to see his reaction when he saw the pictures that perfectly captured our favorite moments together.

"Who is this boy?" I could hear his anger slightly rising.

"My-" I choked on my own words. "My b...boyfriend." I wish that I had told him before the divorce that I had a boyfriend, but I didn't want to ruin our relationship. But from the turns of what had been happening, my father had ruined it without even knowing. No longer was I able to be comforted by Eli when I cried or when I was upset; no one could hold me without me feeling all the pain I tried to forget.

"You slut!" He exclaimed, and I could only hold back the tears. He hadn't gone down this road before. "Only sluts" he sneered the word as if it was a sin. "Have boyfriends behind their father's backs. Only sluts do things like this. You're a slut like your mother."

I couldn't help but sob as he finished his statement; I knew that I wasn't a slut. Deep down I knew, but I couldn't make a comeback for what he said. I could've told my parents. I could've gotten out of this situation if I had just told them about Eli.

A hard blow came across my face, sending a burning sensation in my right cheek.

But this was only the beginning.

Only Hope

Eli skipped English class; I would've expected him to. I knew that I wasn't completely forgiven for not giving him a reason as to why I hadn't been into intimacy with him recently. I honestly didn't believe in love anymore.

Adam gave me a concerned look as I walked into class late; the hallways had been crowded, and every time that I had would bump into someone I would choke back a cry of pain. I waited in the bathroom until the last bell rung, and then slowly made my way to class.

"Do you have a note, Ms. Edwards?" Mrs. Dawes asked, and I shook my head.

"No." My voice instinctively rose because I knew that I was in trouble; he would hear about it. If I was put into a detention, I wouldn't even want to know how worse the pain would be.

Mrs. Dawes looked at me with utter sincerity, but continued class without giving me a detention. I wiped under my eyes to check that I hadn't started crying. I saw out of the corner of my eye that Adam was watching every move that I made, but I didn't dare glance at him. I reminded myself that he was on Eli's side of the argument; he was one to judge by false accusations, not by the truth.

Once the bell rung, I sat in my seat staring anxiously at the board in the front of the classroom. Mrs. Dawes was getting ready to leave, but I didn't mind it. It didn't bother me.

"Uh, Clare?" I looked up at Adam, but I shook my head.

"I'm going to stay here for a while." I murmured, looking at Mrs. Dawes packing up. I shook my head after a moment of silence. "You believed him, didn't you?"

He let out a harsh chuckle before answering. "Oh yeah, Clare. I totally did." He sarcastically said, and I couldn't help but feel my face redden. I had to learn to master not crying soon enough. "He only came to my house and vented. What did you guys do, particularly?"

I sniffled. "I wouldn't get intimate." I stated, playing with my fingers.

"Well," he started, sitting back down. By now all the students had left the classroom except for us and Mrs. Dawes. "He knows your beliefs. He wouldn't try to-"

"No, Adam." I whispered, looking at him. "It's not like that; I wouldn't let him touch me in any way."

"Well why?" Adam sounded somewhat rushed to ask.

"It hurt." I retorted. My eyes widened as I noticed what I had just said. I clenched my jaw shut.

"What?" Adam asked, astonished. I knew what he was thinking; that Eli had hurt me.

"No," I half cried, feeling tears brim my eyes. "You can't think of it that way."

Adam scoffed. "I swear that if he hurt you-"

"He didn't." I cut him off, reassuring him. "Eli never hurt me."

"Then who hurt you?" He egged on, and I shook my head.

"I can't tell you."

"That's bull!" He shouted, receiving a surprised look from Mrs. Dawes.

She hadn't seen that we were still in here. "Mr. Torres, are we having an issue?" She asked, slightly concerned. Adam had never raised his voice.

He shook his head, a slight smile placed on his face. "No Mrs. Dawes, nothing's wrong. Sorry." He apologized before grabbing my hand and leading me to the door. I didn't know where he was taking me, but frankly I didn't care anymore. If he was going to throw me off a cliff, I would gladly accept it.

"Clare," he started, and I could hear his voice rise slightly. We abruptly stopped halfway in the parking lot. "You have to tell me what's going on."

I shook my head. "I don't have to tell you anything. Nothing's going on."

Adam laughed loudly. "Hah! I would've believed you if you didn't have such a big mouth. Not spill; rip off the band aid-you can't keep this to yourself."

"But I have to!" I argued, raising my hands in the air. "If I tell you then I'll be in more trouble! Nothing good is going to come out of this!" I was screaming, I knew it, but I couldn't contain myself any longer. "God was supposed to give me this great life, and look at what I have! Divorced parents! A sister I don't see anymore! A boyfriend who thinks I don't love him anymore! Everything I loved is now gone!"

Adam looked dumbfounded as I ranted on and on, trying to give him a hint to keep forcing the answers out of me. I wanted to tell him everything; from my parent's divorce to my dad's beating. I wanted to show him the scars, the wounds, everything. But I couldn't.

"Just get away from me." I cried as I walked away from the scene that had just been portrayed. I couldn't bear to look at my best friend's pain as to what I had just vented about, and I didn't want to hear his reaction of it.

I ran down to the church, stomping my way to the cross that was displayed in the front of the old, friendly place of worship. "Help me!" I cried, hoping that God would get the message. "I have been suffering so long with this life; I want a refund!"

A chuckle behind me made me turn around. "I don't think they give refunds in heaven." Goliah said, and I knew that he hadn't seen my expression before. His small smirk plummeted as true concern showed on his face, and I couldn't help but ignore it.

"Save your pity for someone else. I've had enough." I said when I saw him open his mouth. "You should leave."

Goliah shook his head. "No; you need someone to hear you out. I'm all ears." His smirk returned once again, but I rolled my eyes.

"I would never tell it to someone I just met a day ago." I said, turning back to the cross. "And I'm done venting for the day, anyways."

Goliah shrugged. "I'll make sure to come back tomorrow; then you should be ready to vent again."

I laughed. "Goliah, listen to me and listen closely, okay? I don't wish to tell you my issues. I don't even know you. You are just some stuck up singer who thinks that everything revolves around you. You wouldn't care to hear about my life."

Goliah opened his mouth, but quickly shut it. "If you judge people by first sights, then you are never going to get better with getting help." The words should've hurt more than they had, but I couldn't care.

"I'm just waiting for my death sentence." I stated, glaring at the cross.

So,

The ending may be a little surprising. I have nothing else to say on that.

And does anyone have an idea as to why I've added Goliah? I'd like to hear your thoughts on him!