Thanks to the Whelms Family

Preface

My name is Samantha Peers but most people call me Sam, if the call me at all. I'll be thirteen years old on October 3rd which happens to be tomorrow. But I'm not looking forward to it because its on a Friday and when my birthday comes my father will slap me across the face but when its on a weekend he beats me until Iâm bleeding or have something broken.

You see my father beats me every year because he thinks it's my fault that my mother died. My mother passed I was six which is almost seven years ago. The last thing she said was that she loved me and I guess her saying that to me upset my father because she never had a chance to tell him that she loved him before she passed away. Hereâs what happened seven years ago.

Flashback

Mom allowed me to stay home from school because I was sick with a fever and mom stayed home with me. My fever went down every hour and by noon I was back on my feet and prancing around the living room like most six hipper year olds. But when mom put me down for a nap because she said I could get sick again with out having enough rest.

While I was asleep my mother was cleaning my sick clothes and dishes. Which is how she got sick but instead of it being a regular cold it turned out to be a deadly form of influenza. The doctors did all the cold but mom was born with a fragile heart and she quickly started to slip away.

When my father and I were allowed in to see her she was fading fast and she held my dads hand as he cried to her. As she whispered soothing words to him saying that everything was going to be ok I just stood there frozen at the sight of my mothers pale face. I finally snapped out of my trance when she called me over to her. I crawled up and sat at the end of her bed watching her eyes carefully.

"Sammie just remember that I love you, alright?" she asked her voice low and weak. I felt a lump in my thought and tears coming down my cheeks. So instead of answering her I just nodded my head to show her that I understood what she was saying. She wanted me to stay strong no matter and no matter how much I wanted to she didn't want me to grieve over her death.

"Dean," my mother said my dads name catching his full attention before she continued, "I want you to know that I-" she had to stop speaking as her eyes started to close she said something else but it was so low I couldn't hear it and by the look on my fathers face he hadn't heard what she said either. He kept asking her to say it one more time because he hadn't heard her but when she opened her moth her eyes fell shut and her body went limp before she could say anything.

End of Flashback

I don't have any known relatives besides my dad. But I think that was the last day he acted like a father. So when I would try and ask him for help on my homework or if heâs felling alright I get flicked in the mouth so hard that it either splits my lip open and bleeds or I get a fat lip. And every time I laugh at a show or at a funny picture I get slapped across the face. That started happening when I turned eight. But the beatings on my birthday happened since mom died. It got so bad to the point where I kept myself isolated from everyone meaning I donât have any friends and I only see dad at dinner and right before he leaves for work.

I'm in my room right now trying to get to find sleep, but knowing what tomorrow was I couldn't seem to shut my brain off. For the whole night I just thought about what my dad would do to me tomorrow and if I would end up in the hospital or not. I didn't get any sleep.

When my alarm went off I got out of bed and got ready for school. I put on a pair of loose fitting jeans and a plain black long sleeved shirt with my favorite grey hoodie from GAP. I slipped on my black converse and applied some blush and foundation before walking down stairs to grab my backpack and a piece of toast.

As I quietly made my way down the steps I heard my father poring himself some morning coffee. So without looking I grabbed my backpack from by the door and quickly turned to go into the kitchen. I had my back pack over my shoulders and my head hanging down watching my feet as I walked. I wasnât looking where I was going when I came through the entrance of the kitchen and walked straight into my dad. When I looked up I saw that I had managed to make him pour his coffee on his jacket and he was fuming with anger.

I tried to quickly back away but he grabbed me by my forearm and slammed my back into the fridge which knocked the air right out of me. As I stood there trying to breath my father was screaming at my for spilling coffee on his work jacket. When I finally caught my breath my father stopped screaming at me and decide to do something even better in his eyes. He punched me twice in the face and once in the ribs causing what I hope is a minor fracture. It also caused the wind to get knocked out of me again.

When I was able to breath I looked around to see that my father is gone. I slowly stood up and found that his keys are gone which means he left for work. I slowly made my way to the door and walked to school so I wouldn't be late. I could only hope that my face doesn't look as bad as I feel.