\"You bitch! Don't You fucking walk away from me, I'm talking to you!\" \"Don't tell me what to do! Get away from me you drunk bastard!\" The sounds of glass breaking and angry shouts could be heard all throughout the house. Until the sound of a door being slammed was heard, and all was silent. She could hear the opening of the fridge as He opened it and the clanking of the beer bottles. Now all she could hope for is that He does not call for her. \"GIRL!! GET YOUR FUCKING ASS DOWN HERE AND CLEAN UP THIS MESS THEN START MAKING DINNER YOU UNGREATFUL BRAT!!!!!\" He screamed.
She sigh and closed her eyes for a second wishing to be anywhere but there. Then got up quickly and headed downstairs. She quietly walked down and saw the huge mess they made. Pieces of broken glass and knocked of items were everywhere. She took a glance into the kitchen and saw Him drinking, already there were five empty beer bottles around His feet. Quickly picking up the broken glass and putting everything back nice and neatly, she then headed into the kitchen.
Quickly getting out the pans and chicken she prepared the other day and made Him, His dinner. Finally finished, she served it to him. She suddenly felt a pain in her right leg, from the beating from yesterday. Dropping the plate, she clutched her leg in agony and pain, for she had reopened her wound. \"YOU BITCH!! LOOK WHAT YOU DID!!\"
There was huge pain in her head as He smashed a beer bottle on her head. Pieces of glass pierced her scalp, drawing blood. Lifting her up by her hair, He threw her against the table. Pain was too great but she held in her screams knowing that if she made a sound, He would make things worst.
Finally finish, he looked at her in satisfaction. \"Hurry up and clean up that mess you made you worthless whore!!\" He said and left. Getting up, she suddenly fell back down again. Ignoring all the pain searing through her body, she cleaned up and dragged herself upstairs, wincing in pain every few seconds.
Taking out her first aid kit she begin to clean her head wrapping it up in a gauze, and stitching up her wound on her leg, and her new ones on her hips and stomach.
Sitting on her \"bed\" she sigh and looked around. Her room consisted of nothing but a single light bulb, a small window, a cot as her bed, a blanket and pillow, a rack to hang her two outfits which consisted of a pair of jeans and a shirt with a jacket and her pajamas. And her pair of shoes in the corner.
A small drawer with two compartments. The top was where she kept her undergarments, and the bottom that was locked, was where she kept her money that she had been saving, a few water bottles, trail mix, crackers, and a box of cookies.
She was not allowed to eat any of \"Their\" food, so she had to buy her own with the very few money she found on the street or begged for. Laying down she thought about her life. She quietly chuckled. \"What life?\" She thought. Setting her alarm clock for 3:00 a.m. she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
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