TRIGGER WARNING: SOME PARTS OF THIS CHAPTER MAY CONTAIN TRIGGERS FOR PEOPLE WHO HAVE DEALT WITH OR ARE DEALING WITH ABUSIVE PARENTS. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
The car drops me off at the street near my house and I sprint back up the tree and land in my bedroom, as quietly as possible, which is a good thing. I can hear a banging on my room door and I know my parents are behind it.
"Open this door right now Candace Greene or you'll really get it", I hear my father yell, and I inwardly cringe.
Slowly, I tiptoe towards the door, and unlock it.
Immediately, the door flies open, showing my furious parents and oh no, my father is holding the belt.
"Why didn't you answer the door?', my father asks, his voice quiet, but deadly. He usually whispers when angry so that the neighbors dont hear him.
"I was asleep, sir. I didn't hear you"
"Shut up you lying dog!", he whispers in the same quiet harsh tone. "Don't you dare lie to me. Now where were you when I knocked". All I can think about is the iPhone just a few feet away from me. If he sees it then I know that I'm dead
"Please I'm not lying. I fell asleep while reading and I'm sorry it will never happen...", I scream suddenly. My father had lashed out at me with the belt catching me on my wrist. He pushed me on the floor, and I lay there on my stomach, knowing what was coming next.
"Don't even make a sound you stupid dog" , my father hissed, before the flood of pain started. I could feel the belt tearing into my skin on my back, and I bit back the tears that I felt, knowing that seeing them only gave him pleasure. I focused on the pattern of the pattern of the rug while I counted the blows that he was landing on my back. He usually stopped at around sixty. I counted while he kicked my sides with his feet, still hitting me with the belt.
"DON'T. LIE. TO. ME. AGAIN. YOU. STUPID. ANIMAL", he said, hitting me with each word that he uttered.
After the sixty fourth blow, he ran out of steam. "I don't want to see you at the dinner table today and you're not allowed to use your phone for a week. Now get out of my sight."
I scurried to the bathroom, and waited until I heard he and my mother leave the room, before I allowed myself out. I took of my top and looked at my back in the full length mirror, noting the deep red welts, which hurt so badly. He always went for parts of my body that could be easily covered by my clothes, to hide the signs of who he really was, to make us seem like the picture perfect family. I took off my clothes and ran myself a hot bath – I know from experience that its an amazing remedy. After the bath, I put on my pajamas and fall asleep on my side.
***
The next day, I woke up feeling sore from sleeping on my side and I was still in pain. I managed to get dressed, wearing a long beige sweater which covers my wrist and doesnt expose my back, and I slipped the iPhone from under my bed to my bag. My father had already left for work thank goodness.
I made my way over to Jordan's house, since I was early, and had a few minutes to spare.
Within a few minutes, I was knocking on Jordan's door.
"How did the date go?" , Jordan said, giving me a brief hug, and I winced as he touched my bare back. "what's wrong?"
I told him everything. Jordan is the only one who knows about my parents abuse, and he always comforts me about it. He also throws a few insults at that irritating Beatrice from last night and, despite being in pain, I laugh.
"So where did he hit you?" , Jordan asks eventually.
"My left wrist and my back, parts of my body that a nice long sweater will hide", I try to joke, but it comes out flat.
Jordan is quiet for a minute before saying, "Well let's get you to school. I'll drive you."
I smile sadly as I head to his car.
A/N: This chapter is short because I want to give a shout out to anyone who is going through any sort of abuse, physical or emotional, from a parent, spouse or anyone at all. I felt such emotional pain when I was writing this chapter, because I know that there are so many people who are going through abuse, and yet they feel too ashamed or scared to tell anyone. There is no shame in being a victim of abuse. Most people blame themselves for abuse and end up being insecure and/or suicidal. Please never do that to yourself. You are important, and the fact that you are going through something like this does not make you less important. Let me say it again – You are important. If you are going through abuse, please speak up and lets make the scumbags responsible get punished. I love you all.
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