Beat Me Bleeding

Beat Me Bleeding = Chapter 1

Hey this is a new story that I have started, and basically its just to spread aweareness around the world about child abuse, and maybe to get you into the point of view of an abused child.

Enjoy.

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Chapter 1 

“Abbie, get upstairs .... now.” The voice calling me was cold and harsh. I automatically tensed up, and tears threatened to fall. 

I closed my eyes, trying to stop the tears. It would only make things worse.

I wanted to run away. Run and run. Anywhere, rather than face what I knew was coming. But there was no escape, and I knew I had to go now before he got even angrier. I raised myself off the lounge, and walked out of the living room.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I could see his shadow on the wall. The shadow of my dad- Harry. He was on the landing at the top, just waiting for me. I could feel every single hair on the back of my neck stand up and I felt the fear take over me.

I got to the top of the stairs, and his large frame towered over me.

He looked down at me, with anger in his eyes.

“What took you so long?” He asked, with his arms across his chest. 

“I-I’m sorry.” I whimpered, looking down. I was too scared to look into his eyes, I would see the monster he is. In his eyes, his evil eyes.

Pain. It shot through my face, he had punched me. The impact sent my body flying back into the wall.

I screamed as the door handle dug into my skin.

“Shut up, you little brat!” He roared, grabbing my top and lifting me off my feet. I was hovering in the air and was forced to look into Harry’s eyes. They were dark green and filled with anger and hate.

BEEP BEEP BEEP.

His watch alarm beeped, in warning.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, dropping me to the ground. 

I dragged myself across the floor to cause distance between us, but never taking my eyes off him as I did so.

“Go back downstairs.” He ordered, before walking back into his bedroom.

I sighed in relief, that beeping sound meant that Mummy was coming home in half an hour.

Quickly I made my way down stairs before Harry saw that I wasn’t gone, my face was still pounding with pain.

I carried myself back over to the lounge, and sat back down. This time, I didn’t cry, I was too sad. I simply stared at the T.V., hoping that something on the screen would take my mind away from what had just happened. But as usual nothing took away the scared feeling inside.

Harry runs the house with rules, rules, rules, and anyone who disobeys him is beaten. I didn’t dare disagree or question anything. I did as I was told, because I knew what would happen if I didn’t.

 Harry told me, that all dads did this to their children, because all children are brats and they do that to teach them a lesson. I imagined all of the other children at school having their fathers doing that to them too. Harry always told me not to tell anyone, or the beating would get worse.

Although Harry told me not to tell anyone, I think my mummy knew, because every time she saw me she would give me the biggest hug. Not all mummys do that to their children.

It made me sad that Harry did that to my mummy too. She always had bruises on her skin, but she covered it up with makeup. She sometimes put makeup on me, because she said people would start to notice something was wrong, and we didn’t want that because Daddy would go to jail. But I didn’t care if daddy went to jail, I want him to.

I don’t know what keeps Harry and Mummy together, they didn't fight. Mummy knew better not to cross him, but he still beat her. Still, there was never any laughter, or smiles shared.

Mummy never has any friends, because Harry would always turn them against her. He says that you can’t trust anyone, and that everyone is out to get you. According to him, all ‘friends’ are the enemy, and want to hurt us. But secretly, I don’t think they’re the enemy. 

Most of them smile sweetly at me.

My house was really quiet considering there is just me, Mummy and Harry. I’m not allowed to speak unless I’m spoken to and Mummy never looks at Harry. But Harry doesn’t care, he liked silence, but if someone is making noise, we all know what will happen.

I know that all too well. 

If I do something wrong, like, talk without being talked to, or dropping something, or even smiling, Harry will order me upstairs for a beating, or sometimes he will be really mean and will get me when I least expect it. But this always happens when Mummy is out.

Harry enjoys hurting Mummy and me, he is sick. Literally, no one deserves to be threatened like this. I wouldn’t even wish this on my worst enemy. I think the worst part about my life, is walking up the stairs, it’s almost impossible not to cry, not knowing what was coming, just terrifies me. He will be at the top of the stairs waiting for me, with an evil glint in his eye. 

Harry will always hurt me even more if I cry. He says I need to toughen up. But secretly I know that no other Daddies do this to their children. They don’t come to school in pain, or with bruises all over their bodies.

I always get beaten no matter how hard I try to be good. I always screw up! Harry says it because I’m a waste of oxygen, that I should never have been born, that I was a mistake. He’s told me that so many times, I actually believe him.

I’m only thirteen, but I feel like my life is like being in a dark room, that wasn’t going to come to an end, no matter how long I ran for. Sometimes when it’s safe, I imagine a world, a world of my own, with my rules, not Harry’s. A world where no one can hurt me. A world where I feel happy, loved, and content.

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(C) Tara Rattigan

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Tara x