Okay, before this chapter starts I just want to be clear. I do put a lot of personal feelings into my writing, but this is NOT based on a real-life experience.

Warning: Contains Abusive Content

"I was wrong. I was so wrong. I can't do this.

After I thought I was starting to get better, only to fall again. I've always been at a disadvantage from the start in this battle. My whole life I've had my hands tied behind my back for nothing. People who try to bring me down just because they can, people who bring me down because I can't fight back. I tried once before, but that's when I learned to never fight back because...

It only makes things worse.

It's not even the pain that bothers me. No, what hurts the most...was being so close. After I thought I could finally make things right, that I could finally break free from my past, only to be thrown back into the corner. To put me in my place, to show me who I belong to, to prove once and for all that I am nothing. Because it's not the bruises, or the cuts, or the punches, or the scars that hurt. It was always the words.

At least...that's what it used to be."

Battlefield Part 1: I Never Meant To Start A War

Violet's Pov:

I knew I couldn't fight alone, I wouldn't win. But this was a battle that I couldn't lose or else there would be wounds beyond repair. I've tried so many times to stop the fighting. I've done everything to try and avoid it, but how can you raise a white flag if it's already been raised from the beginning. So in a last attempt, I pulled out my phone and typed the warning message that me and Clem had agreed on if I was ever in trouble.

I came home from school earlier that day. I had learned that I could hide Woody in my backpack in order to slip him through the front door instead of through my window, but I only did that every once in a while to hide any suspicion that might be lingering. It always made my heart race because I was always paranoid by the thought of getting caught. But today wasn't one of those days, so I went around back and climbed in through my window.

I placed Woody back in his cage and pulled out my notebooks. I didn't have any homework today so I was glad that I could just jump right into writing. Clem had asked me to write a second part to the story I had written her and I wasn't about to say no to her. I was still working on the details of what it would entitle, but I was excited to start working. I wanted to finish it as soon as possible so she could read it. Of course, sometimes that was easier said than done.

A few hours went by when I heard the click of the water bottle on Woody's cage. I looked over and saw that it was getting low. I'd have to refill it and that was risky at this time, but I wasn't going to deny the rabbit water. So I got up and unhooked the water bottle. I took a deep breath before unlocking my door and opening it. Then as quietly as I could, I slipped down the hall and to the bathroom to fill the bottle back up. If my dad saw me with it it'd be in trouble, but I was able to make it back without any interference.

Once my door was shut and locked again I was able to breathe. I smiled as I clipped the water bottle back to the cage and Woody came over and started to drink from it. I reached in and stroked his head which I think he enjoys, but my moment of peace was short-lived as I heard a yell followed by a crash in the living room.

I flinched at the sound, but I was glad that I was already safe inside my room than out there. And that's when I hear it, my name being called. "Dammit! I had to think that."

I took a deep breath. I had to answer to my father's call or else it would end worse. I looked at my window. I could leave right now and avoid it all, but if I was caught that would be the end of it. My stupid parents would probably put bars on my window or something, like from that scene in Harry Potter, and that's not a risk I can take. If I don't have an escape from hell I might just lose it.

As I walk to the door it's like I'm moving in slow motion. Though I feel as if I'm already too late if I arrive at all. I grip the doorknob in my hand and take another deep breath before I open it and walk out. I quickly shut it behind me so no one can see in and I slowly make my way towards the living room.

The living room is torn apart. There's glass all over the floor like last time this had happened, but the couch cushions have also been removed, everything that was seated on the coffee table has been knocked off, the same goes for what was on the kitchen table, and my dad's chair has also been tipped over. My father, Robert, seems to be frantically searching for something. He's busy searching under the couch and I think I have a chance to disappear and pretend I was never here, but he catches me from the corner of his eye and suddenly I'm the center of attention. The last place I want to be.

"You." He grits his teeth and storms up to me. He grabs me harshly by the arm and pulls me towards him and I wince at the touch. "I know you have it. And you have two fucking seconds to tell me where it is."

I have no idea what he's referring to and panic spikes through me because I don't know what to do and I don't want him to hurt me. I shake my head and send him a confused look because I don't know what he wants from me.

I can tell he's not pleased with this and he rams me into the wall pinning me there. "My credit card! Where is it? I know you took it, so tell me where it is!" He pounds the wall with his fist and I flinch at how close it was to my head. I don't know where his credit card is or why he's looking for it. I don't understand what's going on, but I'm in a terrible position right now.

That's when I notice the glass scattered across the floor. The last time this happened was because he had run out of alcohol in the house and he had chosen to take his drunken anger out on me. His supply must have run out again and since he didn't work he had no cash on him, so that's why he needed a credit card. But I didn't have it. Even though I wish he'd stop drinking, I'd never try something as foolish as taking something from his wallet. Then who...

Stephany. My mom, she did it. She took his credit card so he couldn't drain our money on getting piss drunk. Normally I'd be in favor of her stepping in to do something about it, but she doesn't know about the consequences that it brings. She doesn't know that everything is going to be brought down on me.

I frantically shake my head and gesture to myself trying to tell him that I'm not responsible for his liquor withdrawal.

My lack of words only angers him more and he punches me in the stomach then throws me to the ground hard. "It's just like you to pull this kind of shit!"

I don't have time to recover before he kicks my ribs and then puts his foot on my chest so I can't get up. "I know you can fucking talk!" He yells at me. Everything hurts and I'm desperately trying to remove his foot from my chest, but I don't have the strength to throw him. "Last chance, Violet. You can tell me where it is and we can forget all about this or do you still need to be taught a lesson."

I try to mouth out a response in a desperate attempt to stop his assault. There's no other way for me to answer and I know it's only upsetting him more because he really believes that I'm just doing it to aggravate him. So he kicks me in the side and places his boot down on my chest again. He puts more pressure on me and I can feel my chest constricting before I feel something snap. There's a searing pain in my side and tears flood my eyes at the pain. I think my ribs just broke again. That's how it usually ends, with my brittle bones to break my fall.

"You're a real fucking hassle, you know that. Just a fucking mistake, that does nothing but cause trouble! Look at everything your doing." He only gets angrier at his own words and he lets up on his hold down with his foot. I feel like I can breathe again, but it hurts to do so. Though it only lasts for a second before he picks me up by the collar of my shirt. "This is all YOUR FUCKING FAULT!" He shoves me hard and I'm sent backward and trip over the coffee table. I fall backward and end up on the ground between the coffee table and the couch.

I hit my head against the floor and can feel glass under me, but I don't care for the mild scrapes I'm going to get. I'm too terrified right now to think of anything else besides the pain in my side and escaping my father's rage.

He sees that he's pushed me too far and that I'm now out of his reach which frustrates him. He starts to make his way over and I force myself to get up even though it hurts to move.

I don't know what to do to stop his approach. Then I see the lamp from last time. It's the one thing that's still standing this time. Robert reaches out and tries to grab me but I push the lamp towards him and he takes the hit from it, not being fast enough to stop it. Then he gets tripped up with the cord just like last time.

I use this as my chance and run back to my bedroom before he can untangle himself. It hurts to do so, but I manage to reach my door and I slam it shut behind me, locking it as if my life depends on it. Which it kind of does. I have my back pressed against it as I try and catch my breath, hoping that this is over. But I can hear his footsteps down the hall as his boots thud against the floorboards. Then he pounds on my door when the handle doesn't give him the access that he desires. "Violet, you fucking open this door now!"

My breathing becomes faster. I'm so scared right now. Usually, once I can make it back to the safety of my bedroom he sort of gives up and leaves me alone after that. He's never made an attempt to break inside. The tears continue to slide down my face as I just stand there with my back to the door. I pray to god that it holds and I'm hoping that my attempt of blocking it helps aid it in that achievement.

But after a few minutes of no response from me and no progress on the door, he gives up. I can hear him start cursing and objects in the living room are being thrown about and flipped over, but I don't care. He's leaving me alone for now and that's all that matters.

I rush over to Woody's cage and pull him out and I grab Clover from off my bed too. Then I retreat to my closet and trap us in there in the dark. I feel slightly safer in the enclosed space knowing that nothing can attack me from behind, but it does little to calm my nerves.

I can't slow the frantic beating of my heart as we sit huddled in my closet. Woody is held close to my chest in a desperate attempt to try and calm myself down. My eyes are squeezed shut and I desperately want this to be a dream and for all of this to be gone once I open them, though I know no such thing exists. This is real, this is my fate, and I'm terrified of what comes next.

I'm so fucking scared right now, as I sit with my knees brought up to my chest. The tears continue to pour down my face and even the slightest movement brings a pain like fire burning in my side. I can't stop myself from shaking and I flinch as I hear another crash coming from the other room.

I can hear things being tossed aside in anger as my father searches for something in his bedroom. But once he finds it I feel my heart drop and my breathing gets heavy and fast. He comes to my door only to find that it's still locked and this only angers him more as he starts to yell. "Violet, open this fucking door now!"

I can hear the loud thud of him kicking the door, trying to break it. "I just want it all to stop. Please just make it stop!" I flinch with every thundering blow the door receives. It's holding up, but I don't know how long that can last for. After all, it's only made of wood.

But when I hear the click of the shotgun my heart stops. I know what's coming and unless I do something it's not going to end well. "If this goddamn door isn't opened I'll fucking open it myself!"

That's when I realize my dad isn't drunk, he's fucking insane.

I hug Woody close to my chest one last time. I have to go out there. If I have my dad come to me, he's going to kill him, and I'm going to protect Woody to the best of my ability. I know he's not above shooting the door down. Through the smoke and bullets, I'll be left with a pile of splinters. A shield was only good for so long until eventually, it too gives out in the heat of battle.

I knew that if I surrender the repercussions won't be as harsh, I only hope I have enough luck to pull through one last time. Whatever armor I have left isn't enough to block a bullet, but even if it didn't come to that, I would still be in trouble unless the field shifted in my favor.

I place Woody inside a shoebox that's inside my closet and make sure he can breathe. If my dad enters my domain I want Woody out of site so there's less of a chance of him being captured and hurt. Now I was the knight, and it was my job to protect the one who could not fight back. Only problem was I've battled the dragon before and I've never come out on top. I've been burned by the fire many times before and I had the scars to prove it. I guess I've always kind of been the knight, even if it didn't feel like that. In a constant struggle against the enemy.

But I knew I couldn't fight alone, I wouldn't win. But this was a battle that I couldn't lose or else there would be wounds beyond repair. I've tried so many times to stop the fighting. I've done everything to try and avoid it, but how can you raise a white flag if it's already been raised from the beginning. So in a last attempt, I pulled out my phone and typed the warning message that me and Clem had agreed on if I was ever in trouble. All caps, just like she told me.

"CLEMENTINE I NEED YOU! NOW!"

I repocketed it and stood up. I had to buy myself some time. I never wanted her to get involved, I never wanted to hurt her. I don't even understand what we're fighting for. I've tried so hard to prevent this, but I can't do this alone. I need her, I've always needed her. But I also had a job to do and that was to make sure a gun wasn't used on anyone, especially her. I had to do this.

Was it risky? Hell, Yeah. Did I want to do it? Of course not. But if I let him catch me in here it'll end way worse than whatever is thrown at me out there. It always ended worse if I resisted and fought back.

I've been fighting for my life for five years now. I thought that I fought without a cause, but she gives me a reason to try, a reason to keep going. I opened the closet door. It hurt to move, but I wasn't going to give in. I shut it behind me and walked towards my bedroom door, my only thought was about how did it come to this. "I never meant to start a war."