Serafina

Chapter 1: Hurt

As I walk home from school in the pouring rain, I pray to god that Trevor isn't home. Although the walk is long and continuous - it weaves through town, going up long hills and old sidewalks - it gives me time to ponder and be with my thoughts. 

Trevor wasn't always like this - abusive and cruel. When he married mom he was the best step father a girl could ever ask for. We would play football in the backyard together, and he would always take me for ice cream after I did well on a test. However, ever since mom died things haven't been the same. What used to be hugs and cuddles turned into little slaps and hits when I was being "annoying." This then accelerated into hits and punches whenever he was angry. I was basically his human punching bag. 

Last nights beating was especially bad. Trevor had come home drunk as per usual, however, last night was different; it was the first year anniversary since moms passing. I couldn't sleep at all night due to the pain I was in - I couldn't even move. I woke up this morning so sore and aching. Luckily Trevor had already left for work.

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As I walk up the steps to the front door, a fresh wave of pain spreads through my ribs. I have to muster up all my courage to not kneel over and rest, as the cold is starting to numb my fingers and my school uniform is soaked to the bone in rainwater. As I unlock the door I try to pad carefully up the stairs, hoping to avoid Trevor who is currently passed out on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand and some suspicious white powder sitting on the coffee table. 

As I go as quickly upstairs as possible, I hear shifting from the living room. My breath quickens and my heart pounds. Oh god, please no. I can't take any more pain, I just can't! 

From the living room, I hear him. "Serafina, where are you, you little slut?" Trevor stutters drunkenly. When I don't come out, he gets even angrier. "Come out, slut! Be a good girl and come!" He says.

My feet don't want to move, yet somehow my body makes its way to the living room. The horrid stench of alcohol meets my nose, and Trevor sits on the couch with his beer. 

"Come here," he says, motioning a finger towards me.

I step forward tentatively, pain coursing down my back. "You killed her." He says. "You killed her!" I sob. "Your the reason she's not with me right now, you filthy whore! It should have been you, not her. You deserve it!" Trevor yells, gripping my hair.

"I know," I say, "Im sorry. Please don't hit me, please Trevor, please!" 

He smirks at me. "Oh don't worry little Sera, I wasn't planning on it. Now that your mothers gone, I need a new women to pleasure myself with. How about we have a little fun?"

"N-no. Trevor please. I'll do anything!" I beg. I could not let him do this. This was not fun! I would not let him take away the only thing I have left, my innocence. 

I feel his drunk voice in my ear. "Oh little Sera, you will feel so good." He says, moving his hips against my back. "You'll make me feel good, won't you?" He groans. I don't respond, just stand there. I need to do something, I need to stop this!

His hands slip under my shirt, and under my bra. I choke up. I didn't like this. No, please, no. God, what did I do to deserve this, I think as his hands roam my underwear. When I hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down, I come to my senses. I need to break free. Come on Sera, you can do it. Be brave. Grabbing the nearest beer bottle off the coffee table, I slam it into Trevor's torso as hard as I can.

He doubles over in pain, his fingers releasing there grasp around my body. I take the opportunity and sprint upstairs and into my room, where I look the door tight and hide in my closet. I can feel Trevor's heavy feet banging on the stairs as he stops at my end of the hallway. He pounds on the door, and I wrap my arms around my knees, trying to curl into a little ball. 

"I'll deal with you tomorrow afternoon, slut." Trevor says, finally stopping his banging and heading towards his own room. I couldn't see clearly, but I think that my bottle hit did some damage. I wish it had done worse. I wish it had killed him.

I instantly take it back. I shouldn't wish death on anybody. Trevor was right, it should've been me that died, not mom. Its all my fault. I'm a terrible person. I wrap my arms around myself tighter and rock back and forth in the shadows of my closet. Why can't this all go away. Why can't I just disappear. I shut my eyes tight, tiredness taking over. As sleep encases me, I mutter four words into the darkness, hoping magically a fairy godmother would appear. "Please, someone save me."