Mistreated

412 15 4
                                    

*WARNING THIS CHAPTER IS A TINY BIT GRAPHIC. BUT NOT TOO MUCH*

{Present day: December 25th, 1986}

I sat in my closet.

(A/N Carrie reference)

My closet. No one else's. Nothing was stored in there, but me. And my willowing away life. It was dirty. In easier words. He never bothered to clean it. Or even let me clean it. He liked it when he has control.

My strawberry hair was scattered all over, since I continuously pull out my hair and suck on the roots in habit. Dead bugs scattered to only one edge of the closet. Almost like a little ant home.

I pressed my ear up against the furnace. The vibrating sounds coming from downstairs of a happy family opening presents filled my ears. I could hear the excited cheers of little children when they received a gift. The joyful sounds of all ages. Th ripping of the wrapping paper. The constantly used word "Santa."

I scratched at the rusted metal. I counted the amount of times someone opened something. I flossed my teeth with my hair. My foot persistently tapped against the wall; since the closet was so narrow. I felt the back of my head. There were more patches of hair missing from my head, from Richard. My eyes were droopy, and ready to weep. I smelled revolting. I wore a University of Chicago sweatshirt that Richard lent to me. And a pair of skimpy gym shorts. How Richard liked it.

I gritted my teeth. I told myself that this year, I wasn't going to cry. I never wanted to cry. I never even chose pity over happiness. I was utterly trying my best to pull myself together.

My back stiffened against the wall. The recognizable footsteps of a man erupted over my thoughts. I always cringed when I heard the faint knocks come from the outside.

I peek out of my placement. I glance under the door. Two wide feet shadows show themselves. I walk out. The carpet crunches underneath my bare dirty feet. I walk on a couple of beer and sex stains. I get the door. Locked from the inside; like a dog waiting for its owner to come home.

I quietly slide the chain that connects the door to the door frame out of its little home. I then slickly slide the doorknob lock around to the unlock setting.

I reluctantly step back away from the door, placing my hands behind my back. Richard walks in with a smile on his face. I tried not to wince that he was coming towards me. He hated when I winced at him. He said it made him look like a monster. Exactly the point.

His auburn mustache needed to be trimmed. He had gained a small beer belly over the last six years. Wrinkles were coming in, and his teeth were wildly crooked. Compared to when his teeth were less antagonizing and scary.

"How's my little Kitty?" He coos. He's happy. I hate when he's even remotely feeling any emotions. I just nodded. "I got you something." He spoke fishing through his pockets. I didn't argue how you usually would when someone gets you a gift. My hands were sweaty and clammy.

He pulls out a crumpled up piece of newspaper. He holds it like there was something valuable tucked away inside. He holds it out in front of me. I take it with my cupped hands. I look down and examine the newspaper. A Christmas festival was being held down town. I tried not to smile. I looked up at him. He gave me a perplexed look, to almost motion for me to open it. I examined the newspaper some more, until I felt something inside.

I tug and pull till I rip the little envelope. To reveal a ring. A ring. Ring...

"It's a promise ring." He spoke, putting his hands in his back pockets. I couldn't fathom the amount of fear I had bottled up inside of me at that very moment. My lip quivered at the sight of the small jewel that was embedded in the middle of the sterling silver.

Flinch {A Mike Dirnt Fan Fic}Where stories live. Discover now