Heal Chapter One

Haruhis POV

Moving. Pure Fun, right?

Wrong.

Finally, after packing for three days, with absolutely no help from my drunken father, I finished packing the entire house. All except the furniture, which, you know, is going to the van...Right...

"HARUHI!"

My ears perked at the sound of the owner's voice, my brown eyes widened in fear, and hands automatically started to go into defensive mode. Hesitantly, I answered back.

"Yeah, Dad?"

I heard a few footsteps, and then my father, purely furious, appeared in the doorway, red faced and all.

"Haruhi...Where, is all my liquor?" He asks quietly. Dangerously.

I swallowed, terrified of saying the wrong thing.

"Dad, I packed it. The moving van gets here tomorrow you know..." I trailed off, hoping he'd spare me for that pathetic reason.

I saw the glint in his eyes as I said packed. He was mad. Boiling mad.

He closed his eyes, calculating. Then, he smiled. A pure evil smile.

"Okay, Haruhi. I'm not going to punish you tonight. I'm going to punish you later. I'm won't tell you when though." He came over and got close to my ear. "You'll never know when it's coming, or what it is. It could be this..." He dug his nails in my arm, drawing blood. I gasped a sharp intake of breath. He dug harder and then threw my arm down. "...Or," He continued. "It could be this..." His hand went to the hem of my shirt and slowly pulled it up, while his hand explored underneath my shirt. I gasped, silent tears sliding down my cheeks.

No...Not again...

"Please!" I Gasped out, almost in hysterics.

His hand reached the bottom of my bra, it stopped, taunting. I was nearly in hysterics by the time he was there. Finally, he pulled his hand out.

He grinned. "Well, I know which one will be more fun." He winked and walked out the door, grabbing his keys. Making his daily commute to the liquor store no doubt.

I slid down the wall, still crying hysterically. It almost happened, again. Isn't it bad enough I went through it the first time?

I still feel my father's hands on my stomach, roaming endlessley. Not afraid of what he was doing. Just like the man from the alley.

Hands sliding on my stomach, touching everything. Getting his filth on my once clean body. His hands, ripping off my clothing. Ripping away my innocence.

Ripping clothes.

Touching hands.

Filth. All the filth...

I gasped at the sudden flashback, and all the emotions that came with it. Fresh tears bubbled to my eyes, a sudden wave of emotion hitting me in the process. I stood up, tottering on my own feet, now desperate for a shower.

Must clean filth. Must cleanse body...

I full on sprinted to the bathroom, bursting through the door and slamming it behind me. I quickly stripped off all my clothes and turned the shower to the hottest it would go. I jumped it, letting the scolding water try and scrape off the forever filth that lingered on my body. My flesh was burning, tinged with pink. Although my flesh was burning, the filth never came off. It clings to my skin, with every scrub, every shower, everything, it never comes off. I grabbed the washcloth that hung from the towel rack, and scrubbed like it was going to help anything. No matter how hard I scrubbed, the filth remained.

Never be clean.

Always filthy.

His grime all over you...

I Shut my eyes and let the scolding water pour all over me, burning my flesh in the process. My head fell back and I rubbed my eyes with my palms. It was never going to stop. This feeling of never being able to get clean. Get rid of this filth.

Finally, the water grew cold, no longer heating my body up. I groaned in annoyance and shut it off.

After the water shut off, the cool air hit my naked body, making me shiver and wanting to turn the water back on. I stepped out of the shower, grabbing the towel I made sure I didn't pack, and dried myself. Slipping into my cotton pajamas, I walked back into the living room and placed myself on the couch.

Suddenly, I remembered what else was tomorrow. Besides the moving van.

Aw, Shit.

The Plane to Englands tomorrow.

I didn't pack our suitcases.

Like a tornado, I whipped to each and every room. Finding the boxes, ripping them open, taking out some clothes, and taping them back up again. Not twenty seconds after I finished re-taping all the boxes, the door openen with slam, and in came my completely stoned father.

"H-haa-aru-uhi," He slurred and stuttered.

I looked up, completely saddened at what my father had been reduced to.

"Yes, Dad?"

He stumbled and tottered over to me, managing to fall into a few things on his way, and grasped my shoulders tightly.

"Don't ever scare me like that again! You here me?"

I must've looked confused, since he elaborated on what he thought was me scaring him.

"You know! When you rode the alien's tractor, and he called the pizza dog on you!" He said in a hushed voice, looking around in a paranoid way as if the 'aliens' were listening at the moment.

"Yeah, Dad, I won't. Don't worry."

He nodded and did a three sixty paranoid look about, and stumbled off to his room. I sighed and looked at the clock. Eleven at night..

I visibly shuddered. Eleven, wasn't the best time for me.

Suddenly, a crash sounded from Dad's room, filling the whole apartment in the crashing echo.

"Dad?" I asked, slightly panicked.

I heard a grumble followed by a string of curse words, when the door opened. He came stumbling out, with a quite angry expression.

"Move," He grumbled and pushed me out of the way, onto the floor.

I sighed and got to my feet, and headed to my bedroom, officially closing in for the night.

I crawled under the covers, and turned off the lamp, waiting for sleep to consume me for the inevitable moving day tomorrow.