The 20 Percent

Chapter 10

There are two things I know in this world.

1.} People hate me. I am unlovable.

2.) I am alone.

I know these things because I am told these things. I feel these things and I see these things whenever I look into a mirror. I am the cruel twisted things of my father, and nothing of my mother.

I know this because I see this.

I have learned how to hide the emotions I feel, it is covered with anger.

I do not cry when I am sad anymore, I yell. I defy.

I hide how I truly feel because the moment I show my vulnerability my father will beat me.

I know this because I've lived with this.

I do not know what I have done, but I know that I must deserve this. Maybe if I am good enough at hiding my feelings, maybe if I stop crying, he will love me too.

These things do not work. He hates me.

The principal hates me too. She calls my dad for permission to spank me. I'm shaking in the chair across from her. I don't want to be hit anymore. I am so tired of being hit.

He thankfully says no, it's funny that only he is allowed to hurt me.

My mom arrives at the entrance doors.

"Klarisa Marie Decker, you better finish your lunch or we are leaving right now."

All I had left was corn on my plate, I don't like corn very much. I stubbornly cross my arms.

"No!" I shout.

She grabs me and throws me over her shoulder, and all I see is that small serving of corn as she walks away and suddenly, I am the corn.

I am the corn nobody eats because they don't love corn. I am alone on that plate, because nobody cared enough to be full by me.

I am the corn, and I am the corn that even I didn't want.

I start crying. "Please put me down, my lunch I didn't get to finish it!" My mom ignores my pleas.

Guilt festers inside of me, I did this.

When we get home my mom has to go back to work, and I know what is coming. I know this.

"So, I heard your mom had to leave work early to pick your sorry ass up from school." I say nothing. I don't backtalk my dad.

He does not like my lack of answer. I feel the slap on my face before I can fully register what happened. I say nothing. I look at my feet.

"Bend over." There it is. This is my existence. I squeeze my eyes shut and exhale heavily. I am scared.

I slowly bend over the arm of the couch.

"You're going to count. If you stop counting, I am starting over, do you fucking understand?" I whimper out a yes.

He pulls my pants down and I am just in my underwear. I hear the snap of the belt before I register the buckle hitting my butt.

"O-one." I stutter out through my tears.

"STOP FUCKING CRYING. It will be worse if you keep crying." I can't stop. I deserve this. I was a bad kid.

I inhale a shaky deep breath, my butt throbbing in pain. When we get to five, I think we are done. He normally only does five.

He does not stop.

He does not stop until I am screaming in agony, unable to hold the sobs as they fall out of me in ragged gasps.

I can barely walk back to my room, my entire body shaking in pain when I lay on my back.

He missed my butt a few times, so my back was hit too.

The belt lashes welt, and I can feel it when I stand.

"You're going to stay in here until I tell you that you're allowed out. You are not allowed out, only for bathroom breaks. Do you understand me?"

I say nothing. Not even school can help me escape this, I was suspended.

I don't know how long it's been. My stomach rumbles. I'm not allowed to eat until he gives me my food. It's been a long time, I think.

I am curled up on my bed, and the lights are out. I am scared of the dark. The dark reminds me of my father. The smell of him and his fingers. I can't turn on the light or the tv. I know he will be angry.

My sister is in the room with me, and she is the only reason why I keep sane. We play barbies, but we can't be too loud otherwise our father will find out.

The next morning there's a knock on the door.

"You're allowed out if I spank you." I hesitate. I don't necessarily want to be hit again, but I am scared of this room.

"Okay." I walk into the living room and my mom is sitting on the couch.

She isn't looking at me.

I bend over, at this point the armchair should know the way I bend on it, I imagine my body imprint will forever be ingrained in the wood of the couch.

Smack. Smack. Smack. It's not as bad today, I think it's because my mom is home. He didn't use the belt this time.

It still hurts though. I am still healing from the last whooping.

"There you go. Let's have a good day then huh?" He speaks.

I barely look him in the eyes. I can't. I am too scared to. If I look into his eyes, I will see the way he hates me. I don't want to be hated anymore.