Chasing After the Bad Girl (1)

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|Rory|

Crumbling to the hard wood floor once again he continued to beat his foot into my ribs making it impossible for air to fill my lungs.

“Why don’t you get up you fucking little shit?” He growled.

I remained silent, knowing that my pleas and cries to stop would be ignored like the first time and all the ones that followed. This time it was because I forgot to put my fork in the dishwasher before I went off to take my shower.

“I pay for the fucking bills to keep a roof over your head, I fucking provide you food, and this is what you do to me?!”

This time when he kicked he hit a massive bruise making me cry out.

“Shut up!” He yelled.

Clutching my jaw together I hoped I wouldn’t make another noise that caused him to hurt me more.

He continued to ramble on in a pissed off tone and after a while I got lost back in my thoughts where it didn’t hurt.

These things always happened; nearly every day, but I never said a word. And it wasn’t like there was really anyone I could talk to. I had no real friends, no more family, and all my mother’s friends seemed to forget about me.

The only people who knew what was going on once I passed into the front door of my house was me, Him, and His girlfriend J.J.

J.J. felt horrible about it. She helped me up when I couldn’t. The only reason she was around was because He would hurt her too if she ever left, but J.J also believed there was some good still left in him…

I didn’t see it.

“Clean your shit up and get out of my face,” He spat.

Not waiting for me to reply he stopped out of the room and out of the house, most likely to go to a bar or friends party and get high or drunk.

Resting a few minutes on the floor which was sticky with my sweat and blood, I groaned in pain as I felt sharp poking in my ribs like a cramp. But I knew it wasn’t a cramp, I wasn’t that lucky.

Slowly I pushed myself up off the ground and stopped once I was on my hands and knees. Taking in more breathes to fill my lungs I forced myself completely off the ground and grabbing onto the cheap tiled counter.

Grabbing a kitchen rag I wiped up the small dribbles of blood and started for the stairs.

When I finally made it to the upstairs bathroom I slowly pulled up my black Optimus Prime shirt to reveal my purple and blue ribs.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

Doing what had now become a routine; I grabbed my ace bandage and wrapped my ribs up clutching my jaw in pain when really all I wanted to do was scream at the top of my lungs. After securing the ace bandage I took three painkillers helping them down with water.

Once the pain drifted away I looked over the rest of my body. Luckily I only had a cut on my cheek with wasn’t too deep and a few cuts on my upper arms.

Putting on my band-aids I looked over myself.

I had my dirty blonde hair up in a ratted half ponytail half bun thing. My eyes were a dark blue which brought out the darker freckles in my light white skin. My eyelashes were averagely lengthened. I was the average height and weight of a seventeen year old girl, which I was perfectly fine with. On my back were angel wings, inked into my skin. But other than that there was nothing special about me and if anything there were cons to my body.

My thighs were pretty bruised, and I had gotten used to that very quick seeing as I only really liked wearing jeans.  There were fewer bruises littering my abdomen, but they were also bigger and often darker than the ones on my legs.

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