Bottlecaps: This is my third fanfic. Sadly, "the things they'd never say", my second fanfic, was removed because it wasn't technically a fanfic, it was, in fact, a bunch of things that them members of the bladebreakers, would never say. Needless to say, I apologize for disappointing everybody who reviewed, said it was good, and wanted me to do all the other teams in a miniseries. Anyways, where is my disclaimer? He's late again I suppose. Tyson! Get your piggy little self over here and stop eating long enough to tell these people that I don't own beyblades.
Tyson: looks up. She doesn't own beyblades. goes back to eating.
Bottlecaps: Finally. Now that the ridiculous disclaimer is taken care of, I proudly present to you chapter1 of My Sweet Nightmare.
'Thinking'
"talking"
It was about 4o'clock when I came home from school. I cautiously opened the door before peering in to make sure the coast was clear. It appeared so. I crept in and started to run to my room, but just then someone grabbed me from behind, pulling on my shirt-neck so I couldn't breathe.
"Where do you think your going missy?" came a deep man's voice.
I had been caught. 'Shit' I thought to myself. I didn't respond until the man shook me, hard.
"To my room." I managed to say between my gritted teeth. I could hardly breathe. It felt like he was suffocating me.
"And tell me. What are you going to do in your room?" he questioned, tightening his grip a little more.
I continued to answer his charade of questions until he seem satisfied. He threw me onto the ground and walked into the kitchen, grabbed a beer, and then proceeded to living room to watch t.v. 'Oh no!' I thought. 'He's drinking again. No. I don't want to go through what I did last time again.' I was remembering the last time he had gotten drunk. He had lost all grips on reality and had repeatedly beaten me with, well, with whatever he could find. A lamp, a chair, his hands, a whip, anything. Absentmindedly I fingered a bruise, a mark from a previous encounter with his rage. Nobody at school noticed them. The bruises and cuts and scars, I mean. I was good at lying. And I didn't socialize with people. I thought about trying ro make friends but then I realized that I was different from them. Not just because of what my dad does to me, but looks as well.
I'm thin, but I have a teenager's curves. Not surprising since I am fourteen after all. My skin is tan. Not too light but not too dark either. My hair is brownish blonde. All of these things seem normal, and they are. But my eyes. My eyes are different from everybody else's. They are grey. Cold, solid, steel grey, with darker rings inside and flecks of other colors. They hold no emotion whatsoever. They are like one-way mirrors, able to see and read others' emotions, but nobody can see mine.
I love them. My empty grey eyes. They make me feel strong because nobody can see the pain inside them. Nobody can see the years of torture and hidden emotions locked away inside. I take care of myself. My dad doesn't care about me. He hits me. He abuses me. And I am like a cold, silent stone, invisible to everybody but myself. I love my hard grey eyes.
I went to my room, opened my bedroom window, and sat down on my cot. I stared solemnly out of the window. Outside, a storm was brewing. The troubled sky darkened and the clouds completely blocked the sun. Rain began to fall; lightly at first and then heavier and heavier. Soon all I could hear was the monotonous sound of rain beating against the wooden roof. It calmed me until I was completely relaxed. I love rain, and I love storms.
I was pulled out of my reverie when I heard a sharp, loud bang. Then I heard a series of dull thuds. I realized that it was my father stumbling up the stairs to my room. 'No!' I thought. ' I refuse to go through this again. I won't be abused like this. I am sick and tired of being Daddy's little girl, ready to jump at his command or be his little plaything anymore. I've got to run away before I won't be able to. I've got to escape.' I ran to the door and quickly locked it. I wasn't sure how long it would hold, but I had to hold him off as long as possible for me to have enough time to make my escape.
Frantically I grabbed my school backpack and dumped out everything inside. I couldn't leave without clothes so I just grabbed the bare necessities. Some pairs of underwear, a bra, two pairs of jeans and three shirts. I had barely shoved everything into my backpack when my dad began to bang on my door.
"Starr Esther Marie! You open this door right NOW or I'm going to break it down." he screamed.
I flinched as I heard the door groan under my father's weight. He wasn't exactly light at two-hundred and three pounds.
"No!" I replied heatedly. "You always hurt me when you get like this. I'm going away so you can never hurt me like this again. I am NOT like some dog you can beat down when it disobeys."
Just then, I heard the splintering of wood. The door had broken. My father stood there, panting lightly, his eyes boring into mine. In a flash he was across the room, twisting my arm behind my back roughly. It burned and I yelped in pain. I could easily smell the alcohol in his breath and it made my stomach flop. I wanted to throw up right then and there, it was so bad.
He threw me onto the floor and pinned me down so my back was up towards him. He began to hit me. Each slap from his heavy hand felt like it weighed a ton. I don't know where he got the whip from but I'm guessing he had it behind him. The whip made a sickening sound as it made contact with my skin. After a few hits, I could feel blood running down my back. It made my shirt sticky and my back felt like it was on fire. I gritted my teeth as I tried to turn over. The pain was almost unbearable and anger started building inside me. Adrenaline gave me enough strength to completely turn over and I stabbed my dad in the eyes as hard as I could with my fingers. I stood up, panting while blood dripped off my back.
"You bastard!" he bellowed angrily. "Where are you?" he waved his hands in the air, trying to find me.
I ran to the door and raced down the stairs. I could see the door. ' I'm going to make it! I'm going to be free from this nightmare. Free!' I couldn't believe it. I was outside! Outside with the rain and the wind and the thunder and lightning. I was free.
" Bitch! Get back here." shouted my father, stumbling outside into the storm.
Panic crept over me in a wave. I had to be free. I had to escape. There is no way I would ever go back to him. Never!
I heard a clicking noise and I froze, rooted to the spot. I turned around to see my father laughing, an insane grin spreading across his face. In his hands he held a black shiny gun, pointing at me.
" What are you going to do now, bitch? Hm? I don't see anybody coming to your rescue, you little grey-eyed freak. Just come back here and I won't have to shoot you." he smirked.
I was petrified. I knew I should've just kept running. It wouldn't have been as easy to shoot and actually hit a moving target, I shuddered. 'A moving target. That's what I am to him. A target!'
I ran. I ran harder and faster than I ever had before. I heard a bang and then the wind seemed to roar in my ears. A searing pain in my right shoulder nearly made me fall but I kept running. I knew he had shot me, but at least I was free. I rounded the corner of my street. Only then did I stop and look back. I could no longer see my house. I was FREE!
Just then, my little victory celebration was cut short as my injuries decided to make themselves known. Everything hurt! The rain had washed away most of the blood on my back but now my shirt was stuck to the wounds inflicted by the whip. My right arm hung limply. I could see the bullet hole on my shoulder clearly. It had made a clean entry through solid bone and had exited out of the other side. It hurt like hell, but at least I didn't have to worry about having a bullet trapped inside my shoulder. My vision swam and I started to get dizzy. I took a few steps and then stumbled. I fell to the ground.
" I... have..to get up." I moaned. Everything seemed to be spinning and the rain just pounded harder and harder. It stung my skin. I was on the brink of unconsciousness when I felt someone pick me up. I panicked, thinking the person was my father, and I struggled to break free. The person just held me tighter and then I heard a voice. I couldn't make any sense of what it was saying but it made me tired listening to it. I relaxed and let sleep take me away on peaceful wings.
Well, thats chapter 1. In the next chapter she meets the bladebreakers. And then, just a little later on, the purpose of the story becomes clear. Somehow, I'll make it clear. Did you like? I know it doesn't any characters at all from beyblades, but just hold your horses. I'll get to it in chapter 2. Thanks for reading!