save her

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
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my name is kali. kali simone. my life is terrible. and i'm not being dramatic. i would rather die than to live in pain, and constant terror... never mind. just read. read until it's over. until i die. then you'll understand why i did it.

Submitted: May 03, 2017

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Submitted: May 03, 2017

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I never meant to end up the way I did. I really didn’t. I used to be normal… I’d hang out with other kids. Have sleepovers. Play with dolls. Now I smoke… I cough… it’s so hard. Being me. No one even understands anymore. I never hurt anyone. They just hurt me. I’m so sorry I messed up. I messed up bad… really bad. I wish I was with you, dad. You would help me. But they wouldn't let me leave.

 

I went outside and pulled out my cigarettes from my back pocket. I chose one from the far right, and pulled it out. I lit it up and sat on the porch of my camper. My mom joined me as she came out of her house. We own a lot, I get my own camper and they get a house. Fair, I guess. She asked me for a cigarette and I did as I was told. Because I knew what would come next if I didn’t. We smoked together on my porch. I eventually stepped on it and went inside. My camper was clean, and no one could come in without my permission. I had a loft and a kitchen and a living room and a bathroom. Basic needs. My TV was small, but at least I had one. I straightened out my pink patterned bed and pillows… I love the color pink. My couch is also pink. So is my silverware. I feel like a little girl again when I see pink. I feel hope.

I suddenly heard a knock and opened the door. It was my mom’s boyfriend. I hate him. He was coming in for another session of beating. He pulled me out of my camper by my wrists, he slammed me to the ground and gave me a hard punch in the throat. Then in the arm. Then in the eye. Multiple times. I forgot to wash the dishes… That’s why. Blood trickled down my arm as I got back up, and as he went inside the house. I can’t feel pain anymore. It’s been like this for 3 years. Beatings at least 2 times a day. If not more. 365 days of bruises and blood every year. They are short sessions, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll forever be punched and kicked for my wrong doing. Until tonight.

It was 10:00 at night, and I heard a little click outside my door. My mom locked the door. She didn’t want me leaving. Ever. She never wanted me to leave because she never wanted me to get away and tell somebody that I was literally being beaten to death. My dad and mom got divorced 3 years ago. Ever since I left him the pain had started. My mom fought for full custody over me but failed. So instead she took me by force and have kept me here. My arm was now a bruised scab. And my eye was dark purple. Makeup won’t even cover my wounds anymore. Tonight I was going to find a way out of this hellhole. I was sure of it. I packed a bag, and said my goodbyes to my belongings. I did this quietly. I opened my curtains and grabbed my fire extinguisher. I started to smash the wood barricading the windows. I ripped the wood off and smashed the windows. Glass shattered sticked into my skin, but I didn’t care. I jumped out of the window and ran with my bright backpack by my side. I ran so fast I could barely see the world beside me. It was all a blur. I ran through the trees, and when I stopped I was in the middle of the woods. No one could find me here. I climbed a tall tree and sat on the thickest branch. I set my backpack on another branch, one that could hold tons. It wouldn’t be long before they would have found that I escaped. But I did it, didn’t I? I was free. It only took 3 years of torture… But I did it.

The next morning I was sore, and still in the tree. I learned to sleep this way when I was at my dad's for the last time. He taught me. Incase if I was ever kicked out. He also taught me how to climb a tree quickly. He was such a good dad… I reached in my bag and found my pack of cigarettes. I climbed down from the tree with my bag. I started walking towards nothing, because I didn’t know where to go. I lit up the cigarette with my lighter that was buried in my bag. I puffed out smoke and walked a little faster. I saw a small light, with no trees far ahead. I stopped to step on my cigarette. I started running to the light. I was going to be free of everything! I ran faster, and faster and then my face hit the ground. I tripped over a fallen tree… I was so focused on that stupid light that I didn’t see what was ahead of me… Stupid tree. I instead walked to the light. I got to the edge and peered across the flat ground. The house I saw looked so… familiar.

My face and legs stung and burned. My ribs shattered. And the blood felt so warm. I found myself on the ground, with a man hovering over me with a clenched fist. It was my mother’s boyfriend. Only my mom was there too. She was kicking me in the head. Making me dizzy for what had come next. They forcefully brought my in their house and smashed my on their bed. They tied me and… I can’t say what happened next. I couldn’t believe what they just did to me. I bawled, and cried and stung. I opened my eyes to my clothes returning to my body. Derick, my mom’s boyfriend walked in with a potato masher. The top was bright red. He lifted up my shirt and pounded the hot metal on my skin. I screamed in pain and he yelled at me. He was laughing… Like a psychopath. The words that came out of his mouth were terrifying.

“You’re my property now... Sweetheart.”

Everything went numb. The ties on my hand ached. My stomach churned. And my burned skin felt terrible. The bruises were nothing. Nothing at all. When they untied me and put me back into my camper everything was black. No lights. When I heard them leave I quietly tip-toed to the silverware drawer. I opened it carefully and grabbed a sharp, jagged knife. I wasn’t going to use this knife to escape this camper. I was going to use this knife to escape this world. I couldn’t handle the pain. I couldn’t handle living with myself after… I couldn’t handle any of it. I pressed the knife to my throat. Next thing I knew I was on the ground. All I could see was blood. I couldn’t breathe.

 

Then, I died.

 


© Copyright 2017 Vanessa Thomson. All rights reserved.

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