Author's Note: This is based on the book, 'A Child Called 'It.' If any of you haven't read that book, you should.
"Get up!" your enraged mother yelled as she sent another powerful blow to your stomach. You coughed, your breathing beginning to shorten. You caught a glimpse of your father just blankly watching as your mother, or shall you say The Bitch, continued to kick you before pulling you off the hardwood floor and shoving you towards the front door. This kind of stuff happens everyday. You began your walk to school, slightly limping from when The Bitch, pushed you on the hard cement basement floor. You reached into your backpack and grabbed your black hoodie that you wore to hide the marks, scars and bruises caused by the disgusting thing that gave birth to you. Luckily, your skin was dark enough so the red marks weren't so noticeable. Once you reached the school building, you hurried inside, trying not to draw attention to yourself and went into the bathroom to try your best to cover anything you could with makeup. You've gotten pretty good at concealing everything. You wore big sweaters and t-shirts so no one would every know anything was going on. It's a bit harder though when it gets hot outside, like today. It didn't help that you were heavily bullied at school. But anything's better than being at 'home.' Honestly, you've never been sure why your mother hates you so much. You have 2 brothers and 1 sister and they've never been treated the way you are. Things weren't always so terrible. You were once a happy family, from what you remember anyway. You remember your mother braiding your hair and playing games with your brothers and sister in the backyard.
"Sweetie, go play outside with the twins and Iyana (sorry to all the Iyana's out there haha)," your mother said as she continued to prepare dinner. You nodded as she kissed your forehead and you walked out of the sliding doors. Your brothers (the twins) and Iyana tossed a soccer ball back and forth. Soon, it was passed to you and you kicked it back with all your might. Iyana missed the ball and fell straight on her butt. Both of you broke out in laughter. Later that night, your mom, dad, brothers and sister ate together at the table as a family.
"Mom! I can finally throw a football!" one of the twins, John exclaimed.
"That's wonderful honey," your mom said with a grin. You noticed your other brother looking down every once in awhile. Your mother noticed too and she soon realized he had been passing his vegetables to our dog, Sparkles. "Honey you really should eat them, not pass them to the dog," she said.
"Mom I hate them just as much as I hate hearing Y/N's annoying boyband music," he replied. Iyana and the twins began to laugh and you soon joined in.
"Hey my music isn't that bad," you defended.
"Yeah right. I'd rather stick my tongue in the car door," he said and you laughed.
The sound of the bell interrupted your thoughts. You sighed.
'Oh how much you would kill to have those family days back,' you thought as you made your way to your first class.
The whole day you couldn't concentrate on anything. All you thought about was how you got into this big mess in the first place.
Your mother was pregnant at the time and you just turned 9. Lately you were having breathing problems and had been in and out of the hospital. It was really taking a toll on your mom. No one knew if you were going to live or not. But the doctors managed to get it under control and you were able to be home. That only lasted for a month or two. One night, you began to cough and could barely form words. You were rushed to the hospital and couldn't go home. After 2 weeks, you found out your mom had a miscarriage. The doctors claimed it was from stress. That could've only been caused by you. After getting out of the hospital, you hadn't had any problems for a 2 and a half years. Your mother, however, was very depressed. Nobody really messed with her as you felt she needed space. Your father was depressed for awhile also but soon, he realized nothing would change and right now all he was trying to do is cheer up your mom. One day you walked into your mom and dad's bedroom while your father was at work.
"Mom, are you alright?" you asked. She glanced up with tears in her eyes before she looked at you with disgust.
"You.....This is all your fault," she sneered as you looked at her confused.
"Shut up! From the start, I knew I shouldn't have had you. You are worthless!" your mother yelled before her hand collided with your face. For then on, you were beaten, burned, and starved.
Now you're 16 and nothing has changed. Well I guess something kind of has. Your mother had another girl who she's made to be her little minion. She also happens to have another minion on the way. Because of this, the beatings have died down a little since she can't do as much. At first your father tried to stop it but eventually he gave up. Your siblings don't help either. Oh how you wished someone could save you.
It was so hard to write this guys. I hate the idea of a kid or anyone being abused. But anyway, today I wanted to listen to Harry's song "Don't Let Me Go" so I typed it and I really hated the way it felt typing Harry Styles instead of One Direction. I don't know I just didn't like how it felt.