Memoirs Of a survivor

67. Almost There

okay little ducklings, 
so the book is actually finished, and tucked away nicely as a little word document (okay so its a 96,000 document, jeez, keep your knickers on!!) on my computer (and has been since I started putting it on here) but i'm bored of having to come back every couple of days to upload a tiny bit, you may have guessed i'm inpatient, so i'm just gonna put the whole thing up, and let you have at it, i hope you enjoy the rest of the book, happy reading 

also this song is actually relevant, one of the lines in the song is used in the chapter so feel free to listen :)

G xoxo

I had made it all the way to the train station. I ran, faster than I had ever run before that's when it hit, I couldn't breathe, it felt like I was burning up from the inside out, and I couldn't move. I was vaguely aware of someone shouting "miss, are you okay" to me as I slumped to the floor, dragging my knees into my chest, I curled up with my back against the cool wall, I had pulled my cardigan off at some point, because I was sat in just my sports bra, which was speckled in blood, both my own, and that of the last person I fought. There was blood on my hands too, and spattered up my torso, the feel of the grime was all too much as I sat shaking in the entrance to the train station. I blindly got up, dismissing whoever was trying to get my attention
"I'm okay, i'm okay" I mumbled as I attempted to draw in more breath. I made it to the bathroom as some of the haze started to clear from my mind. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, I dunked them under water, and began scrubbing at myself. I put a shirt over the top of the sports bra I was wearing and stuck plasters over all my cuts, the tears began to dribble down my face. And my chest began to restrict again. I was hyperventilating and I was alone, and i had no one to help me.

I forced everything back into my bag, and went out of the bathroom. By this time I had missed the train but if I could just keep out of peoples sights for an hour, then I could get on the next train. With this in mind I went and sat outside to calm myself. I felt the tension slowly begin to slip off my shoulders. As I sat there I reasoned with myself placing the ring that Rita had bought for me on my finger "I am strong, and I can do this" I said out loud. Standing a little straighter I breathed a sigh of relief and left the bathroom, I looked over at the clock to see I still had time until the next train arrived.

I turned to walk over to the platform, getting my tickets ready, when I walked into something. I recognized the smell, of stale cigarettes, and old whisky, before I felt his hand come down and grab my hair
"a fucking retirement match, you didn't think you could get away from me that easily did you bitch, this just means I'll have to find another way for you to make me money" his voice was hushed, but it got louder as he got to the end of his sentence. Dropping me, my father lifted his fist to hit me and people around the station were calling out to get him to stop. The hit never made a connection with me. Or rather it did, but not like it usually did I had acted fast, blocking his hand, and bringing it down, as my emotions bubbled over for the second time that night.
"you know what, Fuck you, I have had enough of this shit" I kept hold of his arm, dodging out of the way of his next hit
"don't you dare speak to me like that you little slut" I gave a sadistic laugh, and let him go stepping out of his reach and but remaining in a guarded position
"any slutty occurrences that have befallen me, were all your doing dad" I spoke from behind my hands as I watched his face contort into an expression of rage . As he circled me she spoke again, ignoring my previous comment.
"what, you think, that you can take me down now, the little girl trying to take a stand is she?" he geared I stopped listening to what he was saying, and focused on my breathing, waiting for him to come at me. As he finally made his move, I had stepped back out of the way, and pushed him, causing him to smash into something behind me. While he was stunned, I kicked out; catching his knee and making him buckle to the floor. Pulling his hands behind his back, I looked up at the clock seeing that the train wasn't due for a while as I began to speak in a low voice with rained in emotion
"I stood, and took your beatings for years; I don't want to take another. I can't take another," breathing out I let my head fall forwards. "I was never looking for approval from anyone but you, but I could never get it could I?" it was now or never that I could pour my heart out to him "I've got scars that I tried to hide from you, but it's too much I can't do it anymore" with this I let him go walking away from him then stopping and turning, I pulled the shirt off so he could see my torso, "I covered them with tattoos, I mean what else was I supposed to do?" I waved my hands "My body is ruined because of you, I have scars, and I have bruises, marks, and scratches, everywhere" I felt his eyes on me, taking in my appearance "I had them covered because you were right, no one would want an ugly bitch like me, I'm damaged, and you did it," I took a moment to breath, then carried on "do you fucking know how hard it is to sit there and listen to your own father, the man who is supposed to protect you, bargain a price for me, or, stand and take it when your dad hits you for looking like your mother. You drove her away dad not me, dad, you did it." he went to open his mouth but I carried on, not even taking notice of the people around us watching in shock and horror "the worst part is, I looked after you, even after that, I bandaged you up when you smashed a bottle on my head, I cleaned your knuckles after you beat me unconscious. I don't even know why I did it" laughing bitterly, I saw my dad try to get up. My hands dropped to my sides, and I felt the knuckle dusters that Nate had given me cold in my pocket, tucking my hands in, I pushed them on, flexing my fingers in the cold metal that surrounded my hands. "The thing is," I breathed, "I'd do it again in a heartbeat, I'd take the beatings, and the abuse, and the pain in a heartbeat, because you're my dad" I shook my head looking at him "but I don't want to do this" I gestured between us shaking my head as I looked at him pleadingly, "not anymore" I shook my head and let my duster clad hand drop to my side.