warnings: physical and verbal abuse (graphic)
age: 16
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Y/N's POV
"Get up, you scrawny piece of shit!" my dad yells in my face, grabbing the collar of my hoodie and pushing me up against the wall. "What?" he asks teasingly, "Can't take a little discipline from your dad? You listen to whatever the hell your mom wants you to do."
Not being to say anything out of fear, I simply try to wriggle my way out of his grip and stifle my sobs. But it's no use, I'm just too terrified.
"You stupid child!" he shouts again, forcefully throwing me as far as he can, which ends up being the dinner table. "The food I pay for isn't here for you to eat. Especially not without permission. Go throw that up right now and go to your bedroom!"
I obey to his orders and push myself up off the ground so I can sprint up the stairs, all the while he keeps yelling, telling me all sorts of nasty things to do to myself.
Once I'm in my room, I go to lock my door
when I realize it's been broken off, so I use all my strength to push my drawers in front of it, instead.
The first thing I do is get my mom on the phone. She isn't aware of the abuse, it only happens when she's at work, which is a lot.
Normally it's a few hits a day, maybe more depending on his mood. For the most part, it's yelling and telling me that I'm useless, unwanted, a waste of space. Everything that I'm used to.
But I'm afraid I just can't tell on him. Because he treats me like I'm the best daughter in the world when my mom is around, and even that's enough to make me believe that there's still some good left in him.
"Hey, baby!" the sound of my mom's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Hang on, let's make this a FaceTime."
"No!" I cry, not wanting her to see the giant purple bruise that has already formed on my face.
I'm in my bathroom, sitting on the floor. I haven't done as my father said and made myself sick, I don't want to do that. It's not like he'll be able to tell, anyway.
"Honey, what's wrong?" she asks me in her most concerned voice. "Are you crying?"
"Um... I, uhh," I stutter over my words, having to grab a towel from my radiator so I can hold it over my mouth and muffle my sobs. "I just miss you," I get out before pressing the towel back to my face.
"Aww, I miss you, too. I only have four more days on this mission, I'll be back before you know it. How are you doing, my love?"
Four days is an awful long time for someone whose father spends half of his day bullying them.
"Please, mommy," I beg, "Come home."
"I'm sorry, sweets. Why don't you go spend some time with your dad? I'm sure he'd love your company."
What do I say to her? It's not like I can tell her what's going on, nor can I go downstairs to dad.
"... Okay."
With that, we say our 'I love you's and end the call.
Of course I'm not actually gonna go spend time with him, that would be a stupid idea. Alternatively, I grab a snack from my secret stash - the sort of food that takes forever to go out of date and I can store in various drawers so he doesn't find them.
Once I've had my 'dinner', I put my headphones on and turn on my laptop, figuring I'm safe to watch a movie for the next two hours or so before I go to sleep.
Boy, was I wrong. Before I even get a chance to start watching, loud footsteps are heard storming up the stairs.
If only I had told mom. She could be here, protecting me.
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i was so hesitant to post this because there's hardly any wanda and this is like violent but i wrote this a while ago
also new lizzie fics coming in a few weeks🤭