Abused {ACM}

Chapter 16

Abby's POV

"Momma...?" I asked quietly, using a name I always used for her when I was a toddler.

"Momma!" I shrieked again, rushing forward to hug her. Austin let me go, smiling slightly. I always told him how much I missed my mother, how I rarely got to see her. I practically charged towards her, expecting her to open her arms, and I would be enveloped in that rose perfume she always wore, and cropped, dirty blonde hair would tickle my cheeks.

But I felt a fist smash into my face.

My father's.

And several things happened at once.

Macey shrieked my name. Jake started cursing. Zoey let out a sob. Zach choked on the air he was breathing in and whispered my name. Robert shouted something about hell. And Alex and Austin flew forward, fists clenched, towards my parents.

I fell to the floor, clutching my jaw.

My birth parents.

The ones who were supposed to protect me the most. The ones who were supposed to call me 'sweetie' and give me embarrassing hugs in public, and take me to surprise birthday parties, and force me to go on dorky family game nights with them, and stuff like that.

My father was supposed to get all up in Austin's face and ask what his 'intentions' with me were. He would tell Austin to treat me right, or he would be in for an ass-whooping. He would call me his 'little girl' and spoil me, and ruffle my hair.

My mom was supposed to bake, and sing, and wear dresses and take me shopping, and hold me while I cried and ranted about boys. She was supposed to braid my hair and watch chick flicks with me.

What was this? What kind of a demented, messed-up life am I living?

And for a second, I just wanted to let go. I wanted this to end. Because death...or whatever afterlife there was, had to be better than this.

But then I heard Austin cry out, and I snapped out of it.

No. Nothing would be good for me if I didn't have Austin and my friends.

They were my life, what made life worth living.

My vision got blurry, and I felt warm, sticky, rust-smelling blood run down my face. I felt my head hit the tile, and through the doorway, I saw the white piano. The white piano that Austin had played on, sang to me on. Where his rough but gentle fingers glided over the keys, making a gorgeous melody.

The place where he sang to me about never hiding my face, to always shine and make the most out of everything - out of life.

So beautiful.

The piano was so, so beautiful, in the midst of my messed-up life. A thing of beauty in all the ugly. The white in all the black, the bright in the dark.

"Abby? Abby! Are you okay?" Zach sat me up, and my head spun again. I was broken out of my thoughts, and saw Austin, Alex and my dad pummeling each other. Swears tainted the air, and there was blood.

My mother simply stood aside, watching the scene unfold.

"Stop." I croaked. "Stop!"

For some reason, they listened to me.

"Mom?" I cried out desperately. "Didn't you see what dad just did to me? He abuses me, mom! Don't you care at all?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, Abby. Abused," she scoffed out. "I doubt he even hits you that hard, nothing to call child services on, you big baby."