Abused

1

Charlotte

I groan in pain as another hit to my stomach was given by my older sister, Barbra.
The reason she's hitting me, simple. I may have accidentally called her Barbarian instead of the close name Barbra. I usually refer her to Barbarian when she can't hear me but this time she caught me.
Blow after blow after blow was given to me with her pointy high heels until my white sweater had a thin ring of wet blood around my middle.
"Clean that up" she spat gesturing to the small pool of blood on the tile floor next to me.
I nodded as she left the dining room to the outside which was only available to me to get beer, medicine, or groceries.
Standing up I became drowsy as I stumbled to the jacket closet, pulling out the mop that was crusted with my blood from five years ago.
"Oh the memories" I chuckle dryly as I fill up a bucket with water.
Dipping the crusty mop into the warm water I sloshed it across the floor making sure not to hit the rug that was a half foot away.
But just to my luck the water had seeped under the rug wetting a small chunk of the old fabric.
Picking up that side of the rug I see a small crack on the floor that went in a complete square.
Folding over the rug so I could see it more I crouched down next to it hissing in pain as the wound wouldn't allow me to bend down any further.
There was a small piece of wood that let me pick up the lid revealing a pink letter with my name on it in mom's handwriting.
I gasp putting a hand to my mouth as I quietly pull the tile lid back down tears brimmed my eyes add they were threatening to escape, some managing to slide down my cheek and ending their salty journey on my chapped lips.
Sneaky bastards, I thought wiping furiously at my tear stained cheeks.
I pulled the rug down wiping up the rest of the blood I put the bucket and mop away.
Pulling off my shirt I threw it in the washing machine with bleach.
I walked upstairs to the bathroom wincing every time I took a step of the 15 step journey upwards.
I finally reached the bathroom looking in the mirror I saw how bad my body looked.
There were purple and blue bruises forming underneath the major scratches and deep cuts that now had dried blood on them from the earlier beating making a ring around my stomach. Other bruises covered my body including all my limbs, but not my face, they prefered to hit my body so I could cover it, I would not be able to cover my face because they don't let me have makeup.
They, as in Barbra and my father, they blame me for my mother's death and I 100%, believe them.
It was a terrible accident but I believe it was my fault for I was with her, I watched her die, I wish it was me who had died, she would still be here taking care of my once loving sister.
I shook my thoughts out of my head as I stripped from my jeans, boots, underwear and bra stepping into the bathtub as I ran a hot bath.
Softly rubbing away the dried blood the water turned a gross light red color, I drained it and filled it again.
I got out and dried my body off carefully trying not to get into too much pain. I poured some peroxide over the opened wounds to disinfect them, I screamed in agony and pain from the burning sensations all around my body.
Walking into my room I placed the letter underneath the mattress and changed into a sports bra and shorts, climbing under the covers I curled into a ball and closed my eyes drifting into my endless world of known nightmares.

I woke up to a striking pain in my leg, looking up I saw George, my dad, hitting it constantly.
"You forgot to cook us dinner! We had to eat at a stinky restaurant! You will get no food today and a beating once you are home from school!" He shouted giving me one last punch to my leg, I swear I heard a crack.
Limping to the bathroom I brushed my teeth and combed my hair leaving it down to it's waist length. I looked in the mirror and did not like what I saw.
My usually light brown eyes were dull and lifeless. My usually rich, thick chocolate hair was now stripped of it's richness left with flat dry ugliness and split ends.
I pulled on a white long sleeved shirt and black jeans pairing them with my battered black combat boots.
I rode the bus to school that day sitting amongst all those freshman and some sophomores brought up more memories of how many times I'd been hit.
One year I counted how many days I've been hit and I came up with 320 days.
320/365 = 64/73
That was when I was a sophomore, now I'm a Senior.
We arrive soon enough and I'm shoved in between sweaty bodies.
Stupid not working air conditioners, I think angrily.

Limping towards the bus I start staring at my boots only to run into something really hard I trip. I wait for the impact to come but it never does instead I feel a seering pain across my whole stomach, instantly I scream in pain and the arm let's me go setting me on my feet steadily, I was sure he had opened a cut.
"I'm so sorry did I- oh my gosh you're bleeding!" He explains as he walks to me lifting up my shirt I try to swat his hands away but they have a firm grip on my sweater.
"What happened?" He asked breathless and when I look at him I gulp, Vexon Helix, school bad boy is looking at five years of abuse on a seventeen year old girl.
I rip away from his grasp and run home holding on to my side where the cut reopened. I don't make it very far because a strong hand grips my arm where another bruise is, lucky me, I yelp in pain and he loosens the grip but not letting go.
"You're coming with me" he says deeply his husky voice running through my ears as if I'd just heard it.
"No" I croak out before trying to run again.
"Yes you are you need to go to the hospital" he says.
"No! That will bring up too many questions I can't have them go to jail" I say trying to hold my ground as he drags me to a jeep.
"Fine but you're coming home with me so I can at least clean your opened cut" he offers and I shake my head.
"I'm already- nevermind, let's go" I mumble the last part.
"You already what?" He asks and I can feel the rage pouring off of him in buckets.
"N-nothing" I stammer as I sink into the seat.
"Tell me" he says harshly and I flinch.
"Sorry" he says lowly before starting up the jeep and taking off.

Vexon

I strongly grip her arm keeping her from running/limping away, I need to help her.
After seeing those bruises and fresh cuts and deep scratches I couldn't help myself I needed to help this beautiful girl the hid herself from the world or highschool.
She yelped in pain as soon as my hand came in contact with her arm so I guessed there was another bruise there, I loosened the grip not wanting her to run away again.
"You're coming with me" I tell her sternly.
"No" her voice comes through as a croak.
"Yes you are you need to go to the hospital" I plead.
"No! That will bring up too many questions I can't have them go to jail" she says and I hear her voice perfectly and to me it's music to my ears.
What the fuck am I saying? I sound like a pussy and I don't like girls! I fuck 'em then leave 'em. I tell myself and I half agree with it.
This girl could change me, my conscience told me and I wanted her to, I wanted to feel again.
"Fine but you're coming home with me so I can at least clean your opened cut" I say trying to forget the part about them going to jail.
"I'm already- nevermind let's go" she shouts the first two words then mumbles the rest.
"You're already what" I ask, rage filling every part of my body.
Was she abused?
Does she get into street fights?
"N-nothing" she stutters and sinks into her seat.
"Tell me" I say harshly and she flinches which causes guilt to flow through my veins.
"Sorry" I muttered and drove off to my house.

Oooo first chapter!
I do word count to keep track of my words and so you can too! The word count does not include the bold letters unless people are texting in the book or I need to exaggerate a word.
By the way do not expect long chapters like this one all the time! Some might even be as short as 700 words maybe more maybe less but most likely they will be around 1000 words. I made this one extra long because it's the first chapter and I wanted a Vexon POV for you guys to see his point of view and what he was thinking when he first saw Charlotte.
Wasn't it adorable?

Word Count: 1513