The throbbing pain stings. Hit after hit, my bones becoming mush. I cringe against the corner. There's a thumping of the cane against my skin, giving me bruises. The gash on my lip stings and I force myself not to cry. \"STOP! I've had enough, I learned my lesson, sir.\" I look up into my father's eyes, he's giddy with pleasure. He laughs at me,\"Alright fine. Go to your room!\" he spits on my feet as I stagger to my feet and limp down the hall. I can here my gasps coming from my mouth in my ringing ears. I can feel part of my lung shutting down on me. I'll be ok though, I have to be; I can't show any signs of weakness on front of him. I have to listen to everything he says, go to my room, stay in my room when there's guests, I have to use my own money for groceries and clothing, do my own laundry,make my own food, I have to do everything on my own. \"It's so nice here,\" Oh yeah, I also have to clean the house. A sexy voice down the hall tells me my dad has another of his \"guests\" over. He pays these poor broke girls to have sex with him. Its absolutely revolting. I closed the door to my small bedroom silently. The room used to be a grand bathroom in the big house. It used to be the most expensive house on the market then a devastating fire burned the house. The house stayed in tact and went to the lowest priced house on the market. After my mother died, my father took the house right away and became a drug addict and started paying these girls. I still don't know where he finds his money, he could be a jewel thief for all I know. But I honestly don't care. If he goes to jail, I won't care; I will 18 in a few months anyways.
The room was cleared of all the toilets and bathtubs and was replaced by a small bed and chest of drawers. Off to the left, there's a large closet that holds most of my clothing. Behind all of those clothes, is my art. I keep it hidden because dad would kill me if he knew about it. I have a secret set of paints that I use to paint the wall with. There are pictures of me, my mother, the puppy I used to have until my dad killed her, trees, flowers, and more things than I can name in bright colors. It's like have a secret oasis of greenery in hell. It's my world painted onto this dark wall.
I pull myself onto my small bed with the scratchy blankets and pull my laptop on my lap. I plug in the cheap headphones I bought with the laptop. I got the money from two years payment of working for the small pizza shop down the street. The years of greasy hands, smart ass customers, and hairnets finally payed off. This laptop has the rest of my life that the wall in the closet doesn't already own. I open up my music and select my favorite song.
\"So I'll hold on, hold on baby, until the night. I'll be right here, holding your hand the entire time. Hold on until the night, hold on.\"
The chorus is my favorite part. His name is Xander. He's only a year older than me so I always have fantasies of what it would be like to meet him someday. He has long brown hair and hazel eyes, just like me. Except his hair isn't as long as mine. He has the cutest freckles on his nose, and the nicest lips I've ever seen. I'm not saying I'm in love with him, I'm not that kind of girl. In fact, I kinda hate his music. I just like the lyrics to the song. The song's slow melody carries me to a drowsy sleep.
I awake in a dream where it's full of lilacs and buttercups. There's a low hanging willow tree off to my left. I can see an effortless and smooth figure standing behind it. I can feel myself start to glide over to the figure, the smell of lilacs in my nose. The ground feels softer the closer I get to the tree and I can see the outline of a swing hanging by two ropes. The white flowers on the tree are fragrant and it smells wonderful. I start to turn in circles on my tiptoes and spot the tree. I feel pointe shoes on feet that I couldn't feel or see before. I catch a glimpse of white blossoms braided into my light brown, thin, curly hair. I can hear myself giggling and I hear someone else behind the coverage of leaves giggling too.
I keep turning until I run into a wall of petals and I feel warm arms around me, \"I love watching you dance,\" a soft voice whispers in my ear, \"Dance with me.\" He turns my around out of his arms and I see it's him, Xander. His brown hair, his eyes, and that smile. I pull myself into his arms again and lean my head against his chest. We turn in small circles, my white dress flowing around me. I smile in my sleep, until I feel something hitting me hard against my side, \"Xander?!\" I open my eyes and the images of Xander escape my mind. His eyes slowly turning gray and the features fade to the familiar features of my father. The pain was real though. I hear grunts escape my dad's mouth as he beats me awake. \"Time to wake up!\" I cry out in pain, the bruises from last night shearing with pain. I can feel my bottom lip beginning to swell up.
\"Stop, please stop!\" I'm sobbing now, but not crying because I can't show weakness in front of him. He stops and licks his lips then plants one on me. It's the most disgusting thing I've ever experienced. His wet, slobbery dog lips on mine, it was so wrong. But I don't fight, I can't. I'm afraid of what the consequences would be. I don't kiss him back, but I let him. When he finally lifts his face up, he laughs as he leaves the room. He wasn't even dressed yet, still naked from last night's encounter.
I get up from my bed, and glance at my alarm clock. Seven-eighteen. I have an hour before I need to be at work so I run to the bathroom as quickly as I can, shut the door and lock it, then take deep breaths as I turn the shower on. I sigh with relief when I step in the shower, the warmth spreading trough my limbs and the steady sound of the water comforting me. I start to sing quietly to myself, I sing the song from my dream. The one by Xander. Xander... Xander... Xander! The thought of spinning in the lilac field enters my mind. He soft hands, his breath on my ear, and holding my waist while we spun in circles. I smile to myself. At least my brain is still allowing me to have happy thoughts after all these years of beating. My mom died in a car crash a few years ago when I was 13. I was devastated, my dad went crazy, and my brother... The thought is too painful. I can't think of Matt.I think about Xander instead, he has never seemed that down-to-earth to me before. He probably isn't though, even if he hasn't turned into a drunken idiot that singers in Hollywood usually change into, he will sooner or later. That's all you see in Hollywood. But i know the consequences, I've watched my dad ruin his life with it.
We used to live in a big house in Virginia next to beautiful rolling hills that Matt and I used to play on. We were all so happy. We all loved each other. My dad used to be a cop, and he would earn so much money. He even bought me a horse for my fifth birthday. Her name was Moonlight Lily, she was brown with a white tail and mane. She had still been a filly then, so I brushed her, fed her, kept her safe, but I never got to ride her. When my mom died, he came home one night with a gun and I was sitting in my room when I hear a gun shot. I heard Lily whinny one last time and I ran down the stairs and out back where we kept her in an old shed we turned into a barn. I walk in just in time to see my dad point the gun at me too. I scream and run. I run as fast I can, but he's still faster and he catches me. \"I didn't mean to point the gun at you!\" he whispers through his teeth. I struggle against his arms but he's too strong. I pull one of my hands free and rip my nails against my face I scream in terror and he lets go. I run as fast as I can to Lily,s barn. I shut the door behind me and run to her stall. She was still breathing but almost gone from this world. I throw myself over her and stroke her hair and her head. My heart was breaking in two, with my mother and brother gone, I didn't know how much longer I would last. I had looked down at my nails and realized how much blood there was. I wanted to wash them of the retched stuff, but I couldn't dare leave Lily in her final hour. Her breathing got lower and slower by the second and a half hour later, it stopped all together. I was so angry, I couldn't control it. I felt like fire was rushing through my veins and into the strands of my hair. I felt like I could shatter in a million of pieces in a matter of seconds. I wanna to kill him, my father. How dare he treat me like that? He had no right... But, I couldn't do anything and I still can't. He controls me now, he's my legal guardian. He's not my father anymore.
I turn off the shower with such anger, the handle almost brakes off. I pull the shower curtain back and a rung falls off the bar. I take the towel off the rack and rap it around my body. I know what I'm going to do now. I know where he keeps all of his thousands of dollars. I've seen him hide it before so I'd know where it was, just in case. I whip open the door and stomp to my room with asperity. I need to pack clothing that will make me look professional, not someone who looks like I'm running onto the streets. Which is exactly what I'm doing, so this should be a whole lot harder than I think it is. I close my door quietly and sit down on my bed. Should I really do this? I mean, I don't even know where to go. The cops could catch me, that is if my \"guardian\" even gives a shit that I'm gone. He probably wouldn't care, one less mouth to feed. He doesn't even feed me, I feed myself! I pay for everything! There's no way I'm changing my mind now. I grab my one suitcase out of my closet and open my all my drawers and closet doors. I lay out several different outfits and pack them into my suitcase. Then I pack my phone charger and my laptop bag into my one purse. I can't take everything with me, including the wall behind my clothes... All of my paintings, how am I supposed to leave them? I pull out my phone and walk to the closet, I pull back the clothes and snap a picture of my wall. I step away from the closet and look at my clock, twelve o'clock?! Holy shit, I missed work. Oh well, my guardian should still be out at the bar.I walk down the the long hallway with the burnt paintings of people I don't know and past the grand marble staircase. His door is the last one at the end of the opposite hallway. Even though no one else is in the house, I still tip toe down the hall. I feel like he could be watching my every move. The burned. The burnt carpet is rough against my bare feet that are stained from ash and charcoal due to the lack of cleaning. I notice the smell of alcohol and pot as I walk down the hall. He could get in serious trouble for that pot. I cringe as the smell gets stronger. I pause in front of the door. I reach out my hand slowly towards the doorknob, the blood pulsing in my ears. My hands shakes and my breathing is shallow. My mind is swimming with millions of emotions, I can't sort them. My hand touches the knob and I turn it to the right. I believe I've stopped breathing now, the stench is so overwhelming I have to take a step back before I walk in.The first thing I see are broken bottles on the floor then the vomit, rotten and staining the burnt carpet. The stench is terrible, I pull my shirt up to my nose before I dare enter his room. I try my best to step around the detritus. I look up and see large velvet curtains stained with black with golden tassels on the bottom. Next to it is a large bureau, part of the wood burnt away. Then a large, king sized bed with the blankets drawn up to the pillows. Well at least he still has the decency to make and change his bed. Next to it is a bedside table with one small drawer that he kept from when my mother was still around.It was my mothers from when we lived in our old house, she used to keep photographs and Polaroids in the drawer, but she also kept the money she inherited from her father's side of the family. They owned one of the biggest camera companies in America. My mother loved to take pictures of our family. And she had many cameras to take them with.
I imagine this was one of the most beautiful rooms in the house when in was still expensive. I pull open the drawer and stare in horror as I see the mounds of cash that states back at me. Hundred dollar bills stacked in by the tens. I grab six, I don't think he'd notice. There's millions in there. I hurry out of the room and pull the door shut. I run back to my room, stash the money in my wallet then set my purse and wallet in my suitcase. I pull the suitcase off my bed and shove it under my bed. I can't leave just yet. I have to wait till midnight when I have a few hours before he'd notice. My alarm clock tells me it's around twelve forty-five. Two hours until my dad comes back from the bar, so I sit back with my phone and listen to Xander for a while. He'll make this trip easier for me. I look on a map to see where I want to go. New York maybe? Or California sounds nice, Hollywood...
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