No Thank You...

Chapter 1

Taylor's POV

"GET UP YOU LITTLE SLUT!" My 'father' screamed from the lower level of our cramped two story apartment, not caring about our close neighbors that were just on the other side of these paper thin, crumbling walls.

It's not like they care since they are to busy doing disgusting things on the other side of the wall, constant banging coming from the room that was right next to mine.

I rolled off the moldy, torn, mattress that laid in the corner of my room, onto the scratchy, cheap carpet that covered most of the apartment.

I stood up, popping the bones in my back in the process, groaning at the simmering pain that was still invading my whole body, spiking around my ribs.

I slowly got myself dressed, keeping the clothing light so it wouldn't cause so much pressure and toughness in my healing skin.

I slipped on a pair of back joggers, loosening the string around my waist and pulled a thin sweater that has a soft cotton on the inside, over my head.

After slipping on a pair of socks I make my way to the bathroom and to continue my morning routine.

I take a quick glance in the cracked mirror as I put toothpaste onto my toothbrush and slightly wince at the sight.

My brown curls were in large clumps and knots all over my head, black, ugly bags drooped under my vomit green eyes. My cheeks were hallowed in and I had a scar that ran down from my ear to my chin.

I brushed my white teeth -the only thing that wasn't screwed up about me even though a few were slightly cricked but it wasn't completely noticeable- and washed my face in cold water with a washcloth.

I glanced at the small box behind the toilet, weighing in my mind if it was a good moment. I had just used them yesterday and my arms were still torn and sore.

I decided against opening the small box of razor blades and start cleaning up the mess I made while getting ready.

Before I could finish up though, I heard a thumping sound coming up the stairs.

I cringed on the inside while I tried to control my shaking and labored breathing, knowing it will only be worse if I showed my undying fear.

My father slammed the door open, banging it against the wall, expanding the hole the started to form from the door knob.

"Whore! I wake up, go to work, make money, and pay the bills for your ungrateful ass, and you don't even have breakfast on the table so I can do so!" He sneered his double chin becoming more obvious. "I fucking want my breakfast or I'm going to beat your ass so bad you'll finally just die and do everyone a favor!"

He threw me to the ground, my head banging against the counter tile on the way down, causing a small cut to form and blood to drip out of it.

A few kicks and punches later, the attacks stopped but I kept my eyes sealed shut and body in a small ball.

"Stop withering on the ground like a weak bitch and get a move on!" He spat before exiting the room, pulling the door shut behind him with a large "thud" noise.

I slowly pull myself together and stand up. I gut-wrenching pain racks throughout my whole body before my head starts to spin rapidly. I lean against the counter before throwing up whatever was in my stomach into the sink.

I wait a few moment before I make sure I am good before collecting myself once more and washing up the sink and brushing my teeth again.

"Come on slut the world doesn't revolve around you now make me breakfast!" Father yells from the lower level and I groan.