Five years before
Maya sighed as her stepfather once again locked her in the basement.
She was only sixteen, but she knew he had no right to treat her this way, especially when her mother had just died two weeks prior.
She listened from the staircase as she could hear Shawn swearing at the tv. She imagined the living room, what was left of it anyway, being surrounded by beer bottles and cigarette packets.
She examined the cigarette burn scars on her arms, legs, and chest. Some were old, some were new.
Her stomach churned as she whispered, "He won't hurt me again. He took my innocence once. He won't hurt me."
She felt so dirty, like a tramp, and it was all his fault. She had never asked to be forced to be with him through the night two months ago when her mom was out of town at a bakery convention, but he had threatened her and said if she ever told anyone, he'd slit her throat.
She calmed her breathing and sighed, walking over to the mirror beside her bed.
She put a hand to her face. Her face tingled as she felt the bruising, and in the dusty old mirror she looked at her own reflection.
She was a girl, one she didn't even recognize anymore. One with bruising, scars, and a broken family.
But she knew she'd make something of herself. She'd be a famous artist, no doubt. Or maybe a writer.
As the sky darkened from the little window in the basement, she sighed again before climbing onto the old moldy bed, pulling the small blanket over her body.
She wanted to leave, leave this life behind and try to move on.
The trauma she faced was too scary, all too real, and she endured it every waking moment.
Just then, the door opened, and heavy footfalls descended the staircase.
"Maya! Where are you?" Shawn slurred. He was throwing boxes and furniture around, looking for her.
She dared not move. Holding her breath, she counted to twenty in her head.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
She waited, counting in her head as he came closer to her stiff body.
Eight.
Nine.
Ten.
Eleven.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
Fourteen.
Not tonight. Please, not tonight. Please. Leave me alone. I don't want you tonight.
Fifteen.
She continued counting in her head as her heart beat even faster with every approaching second that passed.
Muttering to himself, he groaned and his heavy footsteps could be heard walking up the staircase.
"Twenty," she whispered.
He left and locked the door once again.
She wiped her tears and fell asleep.
~~~~~
YOU ARE READING
Baby Mine: Joshaya fanfiction
FanfictionIn which Maya Hart deals with her mother's death, her stepfather's abuse, and getting knocked up by her best friend's uncle Josh. Maya has liked Josh for many years, even though he's way older than her by three years. But one party in New York on...
