The Beating

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Haley's Pov.

I was laying on my bed one Saturday morning when my foster mom started yelling my name. "Coming" I yelled from upstairs.

I got out of my bed and slipped on my slippers. I walked down the stairs and into the living room. My foster mom was sitting on the couch drunk as usual.

I looked around and saw 29 bottles of different beers and liquors. "Come here" she slurred. I did as she said because if I didn't lord knows what would happen.

I took a step towards her. *SMACK* she slapped me across the face. I held my hand to my now red cheek. Tears brimmed my eyes an threatened to spill. I held them in though.

"LISTEN YOI LITTLE BITCH YOUR GROUNDED!" She half yelled half slurred. I have had enough of this. "But I didn't do anything wrong to you. You always do this and I'm not gonna take it anymore."

She looked at me with her red eyes. "Talking back huh? well we'll see about that" she said grabbing me by my long blonde hair. She threw me across the room.

I hit the mirror and broke it. I fell to the ground. By now I was crying. I tried to pick myself up but couldn't. I didn't have the strength.

She kicked me in my gut twice. I held my stomach and grunted a couple times. She kicked me in my ribs while I laid there gasping for the air I couldn't get.

She walked out of the room leaving me there. When she came back in she was holding a baseball bat in her hand. She came towards me and hot me hard with it.

This was it I thought I was going to die. "GET UP NOW" she screamed in my face. I tried my best and managed to get up very slowly though. "Turn around and lift up your shirt."

I did as said. She took one last blow of her cigarette and put it out on my lower back. I screamed in pain until she hit me again.

This was my usual beating. I got this almost everyday except that was the first time she had ever put out her cigarette on my back.

I managed to drag myself to my room. All I had in there was a rubber mattress and my stack of clothes. Other than that it was empty. There were stains all over the floor and walls.

I hated life I wanted to die. I was going to run. I had to. If I wanted to live a good life I had to run. So I was going to.

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I pulled out my pink old bag. I packed two outfits. I was ready to go. It was 8:00 AM and my foster we'll old foster parents don't wake up until about 3:00 in the afternoon.

I snuck into there room and got into the little place where they stored the family money. They thought I didn't know about it or anything but I secretly saw.

I typed in the code and opened it. I pulled out 10 $20 dollar bills. So $200. This should be enough to get me started.

I quietly left the room and grabbed my pull over hoodie. I put on my mix matching socks and slipped on my old sneakers.

I put my hood up and stood facing the door. I put my hand on the knob and turned it. I opened the door and walked outside.

I was off and ready to face the world.

Dating Him (A Cameron Dallas Story) Book #1Where stories live. Discover now