TRIGGER WARNING-CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF ABUSE. (and implied rape) Be warned!

I ended up at Kenny's house. I really had no where else to go, so I ignored my pride, and quietly knocked on his door.

I could hear a women shouting, something about good for nothing, and get a job, before she swung the door open.

"If yer sellin somethin, were not interested" she glared, about to close the door.

"Oh no! I'm a friend of Kenny's", I rushed to explain.

"Oh", he features softened a bit.

"He's upstairs," She said, opening the door more, allowing me into their messy house.

After the door was closed, she immediatly went back to yelling at her husband, not caring that I was still standing there akwardly. I guess it was my que to head upstairs.

I knocked quietly on Kennys door, pulling my hoodie over my head, and hiding my face, much like Kenny would do.

His door opened about an inch, a baby blue eye peering through the crack. Suddenly the door was swung open and I was caught in a strong, painful embrace.

"K-kenny I- can't b-breath," I struggled, not ready for human contact.

"It's been forever," he chimed.

"It's been a week," I grumbled, stepping away and dusting myself off.

"Dude...you look like hell" he stared at me, shifting around uncomfortably.

Well, I felt like shit. I rushed into his room, throwing my backpack on the ground, flopping on his bed. I didn't want him asking any questions. I just
needed some help.

"So...," he started, pushing his hands in his pocket, and sitting next to me on his bed.

"May I ask why-".

"No."

"Bu-".

"Kenny."

He made a grumble in the back of his throat, which meant I'd won, and he would have to save his questions for later.

I was here to get bandaged up, for one, and maybe learn a few makeup tricks to hide the bruises, and swelling. That was it.

"I need you to do my makeup" I stated point blankly.

"Oh, I didn't know you were into that kind of stuff," he snickered.

"Well then you don't know me at all," I joked back.

Kenny was very annoying, especially in public, but in private he was actually a really nice guy. I didn't deserve to have anyone talk to me though, I smiled to myself. It sounded sad, but it was life for me, so that was that. It was more a fact then a sad statement.

"I need help covering up..uh this," I gestured to all of my face.

He squinted his eyes, sticking his tongue out as though in deep thought.

"Ah okay, and you just want the face, or the.." His smiled faltered, but only for a split second.

"..neck.." He coughed, gaining back composer.

"Um whatever needs to be covered," I shrugged, feeling a bit sick at certain memories that were bubbling in the back of my mind.

!WARNING! AGAIN THIS PART OF THE CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. READERS DESCRESION IS ADVISED!

*Three days prior to Kenny's house*

The door vilently swung open, as the angry face of my father looked down to me. This time, I not only feared for my sanity, but for my life.

Bite your tongue, I repeated in my head, don't say anything. He grasped the sides of my arm, squeezing, as he flung my small frame in the house.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he seethed, towering over me.

I knew that talking never worked, so I looked at the floor, waiting for the blow, but it never came.

"You're worthless," he spoke in a terrifyingly soft voice.

He leaned down, tightly gripping my hair, pulling my head towards his.

"I'm thirsty, make coffee," he ordered, dropping me back to the floor.

I scrambled to my feet, rushing to make his coffee. I knew that if I messed anything up, spilt even a drop, he would unleash his anger against my skin, he would etch his filth into every fiber of my being. The whippings were bad, but the touching was worse.

I gasped for air, a panic attack threatening to spill the coffee beans I had begun grinding. Focus Tweek, please, freak out later, I begged myself.

His very essence rattled my bones, and suddenly I was working on adrenaline, an autopilot of sorts.

I was shikily pouring the ground coffee beans in the brewer when I felt a warm hand trailing its way up my spine. I froze.

"Whats wrong buttercup?" he cooed, fingers crawling up my sides.

I shivered, holding my breath.

I felt his rough hands running through my hair, making me want to puke, and suddenly I was being pushed forward, my head smashing against the counter.

The residing crack echoing in the otherwise silent home. Then it all went blank.

My eyes flew open, the sound replaying in my ears.

Was I dead?

I really hoped I was, I though, taking in my surroundings, before realizing I was on the carpet floor of my room.

I slowly sat up, my body overwhelmed with shudderes of pain, only worsening with the sudden stretch of limbs. So then I guess I wasn't dead.

I let out slow shallow breaths, before blinking and realizing only one eye was open. Gently, I ghosted my finger over my left eye, finding very tender skin as I let out a pained gasp. I must have a black eye. I slowly lifted up my shirt, revieling a mixture of hand marks and bruises, suddenly aware of the pain in my nether regions. What day was it? I couldn't tell you, nor did I care.

I slowly pulled myself up, sighing. Dispite the odd distrapution of pain throughout my body, I managed to make it to my bed. I sat, or rather plopped down onto my bed, realizing how big of a mistake that was as the pain in my ass seared up my body.

I was most likely bleeding, and if I had school tomorrow, then there was no God.

After catching my breath, I peaked out into the empty hallway, sparing a glance towards my bed, wincing at the blood stains all over my sheets, and floor.

Debating if I should sleep, or shower, I decided the lather was better. I needed to get clean.

Also, tomorrow was monday.

I guess there really was no God, I thought bitterly, throwing on some clothes.

After much lip biting, and debating, I finally shoved everything I needed before heading over to Kenny's house.

It almost hurt to seek help, but I really couldnt trust myself alone tonight...