Violets pov
The first thing that I can feel when I wake up is my aching body from my dearest mother and father. They really did a number on me, I'm pretty sure I have three broken ribs and I have bruises all over my body.
I quickly shut off my 5 am alarm before one of the monsters "my parents" hear and wake up. I slowly get off my bed which is just a little blanket and a really old pillow on the cold hard floor of the basement, I make my way over to the tiny little stack of clothes on the ground and take a pair of jeans, a shirt and a jumper plus some underwear and run up the creaky basement stairs into the actual house and then run up another set of stairs to get to the bathroom upstairs.
I try my best to be quiet when I move around the house because I know that if I somehow wake up the monsters I will get another beating and I don't think my body can take more than one a day now. after successfully getting into the bathroom I turn away from the mirror and undress before getting into the freezing cold shower, the monsters say that a worthless, ugly brat like me shouldn't get hot water so they turn it off.
After standing in the shower trying to get as much blood off as possible, I get out and dry myself, then put on my clothes, do my hair and make sure all my bruises are covered with make-up and run downstairs to clean all the bear bottles and all the cigarette buds off the broken coffee table. Which is kind of useless because the house still smells like drugs and alcohol with a faint smell of blood and yes, it's my blood. The next thing I have to do before they wake up is make them breakfast, like their grown-ass people why the hell are they getting their 15-year-old daughter to make them food. I just make them a simple breakfast – two sausages with scrambled eggs each.
Just as I put the food on plates and put them down on the counter, I hear them walking near the kitchen, looking at the clock I realize that I'm supposed to be out the door now. slightly running over to where my bag is leaning against the wall, I try to grab my bag and leave but am pulled back by my hair and slammed hard into the floor.
"What the hell are you doing?" Mother dearest yells in my face, I don't answer because that's one of the rules- don't speak unless spoken to, or in my case just don't speak.
This seemed to have pissed off my amazing parents more because suddenly, my head is slammed against the floor again and I'm getting kicked in the ribs and stomach, I try not to make a sound but somehow every blow to my ribs and stomach is on a bruise making it infinitely harder and every time they kick me a let out a little groan.
"Your mother asked you a question" my father yelled. I decide that maybe I should speak so I try to come up with something fast that won't make them angrier.
"I was just going to leave for school" I say as innocent and pleadingly as possible. They seem to be angry but also want me to be long gone so let's hope they let me go
"Well hurry your pathetic ass up and go, we don't want another call from the principal do we?" Mother says in her oh we sweet and caring tone. Note the sarcasm.
nodding, I quickly go to stand up but am abruptly pulled back down with a kick to my back. looking behind me my father is standing there with a sneer on his face looking down at me.
knowing what is coming next from so many past experiences I curl in on myself and try to go somewhere else mentally, getting ready to be hurt more.
it doesn't stop anything though, I can still feel every time he kicks me, still hear everything degrading he says in between those kicks. I still somehow end up counting how many kicks I get and where they are so I can check for bleeding later, something I learnt to do growing up.
after twenty more kicks to my back, he leaves me on the phone, both of us panting. I don't waste a second getting out of the house, ignoring all of the pain that I am used to feeling. I grab my bag which is still against the wall untouched and start making the 20-minute walk to my second hell, aka high school.