Her Razor Battle

***This is a new story I'm starting I hope you all like it I'm writing it on my iPod so I apologize ahead of time for spelling and grammar errors I hope you enjoy it vote, comment, fan?***

Chapter one~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

My eyes peak open squinting at my sun lit room. My head pounding and body aching from last nights beating. Dad was drunk again at least he hasn't raped me yet.

You're probably wondering where my mother is, well you see she died a long time ago. I was around three and my father had beaten her to death. It was all my fault...

*Flash back (3 year old Scarlett)**

"YOU FUCKING WHORE." my father yelled with rage cornering my mother.

"WHERE DID YOU HIDE THE FUCKING MISTAKE?" He screamed as he through a beer bottle at my mothers head. Her scream piercing my ears as I see the blood everywhere. I was hiding the closet she put me in here to protect me. She told us we were leaving, but then he came home.

"Go to hell you bastard leave my baby girl alone." My mother said with a quivering voice tears streaming down her cheeks mixing with the blood.

"YOU BITCH." He said as he punched her repeatedly and kicked her slapped her everything... Her screams and cries got quieter and quieter till she layer there limp on the floor her body already covered in ugly bruises and crusted blood. He spit on her and stumbled to the door slamming it shut. I waited a few moments before slowly opening the closet door. Cautiously stepping towards my mothers body silent tears streaming down my face.

"Mommah?." I said as I lightly poked her... "Wake up mommah." I cried practically screaming, but she didn't wake up. I lied next to her crying until my father returned. I don't remember anything after that...

*Back to the present day***

I felt the wetness of tears drip down my face from the memory. I miss her so much. We were suppose to get away but I messed it up.

Wiping my tears away I groaned as I got out of bed. I was already late for school but I had to leave before the bastard woke up. I limped to the bathroom studying myself in the mirror.

My bright green eyes look dull and puffy with bags under them. My raven black hair was limp with blood dried into it here and there. My cheek was bruised with yellow and purple and green, some old some new. My lip was busted and swollen. Fingerprint bruises on my neck. Cuts all up and down my arms, some even on my thighs. Those were self inflicted though. I gaged at the reflection I was hideous.

I turned the shower on wincing as I stripped out of my clothes. Getting under the water hoping it relaxes my sore muscles.

I reluctantly got out of the soothing shower drying off. Examining my ribs I decided to wrap them up as well as my ankle. Then applied as much concealer as I could to hide the bruises, though still visible. I let my hair fall in my face as I walk to my closet. Pulling out black skinny jeans, my Sleeping With Sirens t-shirt, and my black hoodie. Slipping it all on grabbing my old iPod I got from an old friend, and my bag walking out of my room. Tiptoeing down the stairs as a pass my drunken father surrounded by empty beer cans and bottles passed out. I slip into my black Hightop converse and race out the door.

Pulling my hood up covering my face I slowly walk three miles to hell.