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Age: 14
Warnings: Abuse
In this one-shot Natasha is not your mom, but more of a comfort person I guess. Also if you guys have anything you want me to write about please let me know :)
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Y/N's POV:
Living in an abusive household is like living in an everlasting nightmare. I wake up each day with fear, my life only consist of terrifying moments I just have to endure. Fear, emotional and physical pain are my constant companions.
Today was not different. When I woke up I could already hear my dad in the kitchen, the clattering of dishes and the smell of his morning liquor lingering in the air. It made me realize that there was no way to sneak out of the house unnoticed.
As I reluctantly left the safety of my bedroom, I felt the fear rising in me. My heartrate increasing with every step I took. The hallways echoed as I made my way trough it, every step felt like a step into a minefield, never knowing which word or action might trigger his anger.
Descending the creaky staircase, I could see my dad hunched over the kitchen table, a half-empty bottle of whiskey at his side. He didn't acknowledge my presence, he never did. But I could feel his gaze, cold and scrutinizing, watching my every move.
I did my best to blend into the background, making myself as small and invisible as possible. I prepared a simple breakfast, careful not to make any noise that might draw his attention. But no matter how hard I tried, his eyes found me, and his voice, laced with bitterness, filled the room.
"Y/N," he sneered, "You're about as useless as they come."
His words were like a physical blow, and I struggled to keep my composure. I forced myself to remain silent, to avoid giving him any satisfaction. But his cruel comments chipped away at my already fragile sense of self-worth.
I counted down the minutes until I could leave for school. School had become my escape, the one place where I felt a glimmer of hope. But it was also a place where I had to hide my pain, my shame, behind a mask.
As I grabbed my backpack, ready to bolt to the door, I felt his presence behind me. He loomed over me, and I cowered backwards into a corner, trying to hide away from him. All of a sudden he raised his fist and it made brutal contact with my cheek. I felt a burning sensation as I brought my hand to my face.
''You ungrateful bitch!'' he spat, his face retorted with anger. His voice dripped with venom, as he started to tell me why I am so disappointing. His rage was irrational and unpredictable, and that made it all the more terrifying.
My only refuge from this torment was school, particularly my Russian language class. My Russian teacher, miss Romanoff, was a captivating presence. She was more than just a teacher; she seemed to understand, to care.
I had always been a quiet and reserved student, but miss Romanoff's classes became the highlight of my day. It was in her lessons that I found solace, as if I had found a sanctuary where I could escape the harsh reality of my home life.
When I reached the school's entrance, I pulled my hood over my head to conceal the bruise that was forming on my face, avoiding the curious or judgmental glances from my peers. Walking down the hallway with my head down, I couldn't bring myself to engage with anyone today.
My first class was math, and I hate that teacher, she is always mad at me for not understanding. As I walked in the classroom late, I could feel the collective stares of my classmates on me.
The tension in the room was high, and I sensed that something was off. It didn't take long for Ms. Jenkins, the math teacher, to call my name, her voice dripping with annoyance.
''Y/N, I see you've decided to grace us with your presence today. Care to share the reason for your lateness?"
I mumbled an apology, my voice barely audible. Her scolding eyes bore into me, and I wished for the floor to swallow me whole. But as I explained that I had been held up, her skepticism lingered.
Finally, she gestured for me to take my seat, and as I did, I caught a glimpse of miss Romanoff in the hallway, watching me with a concerned expression.
As I settled into my seat, my mind was foggy, and my frustration with the situation bubbled over. Unable to focus on the lesson and feeling the judgmental eyes of my classmates upon me, I made an impulsive and poorly thought out decision.
I grabbed a piece of chalk and, with a quick but deliberate motion, I tossed it toward the chalkboard. The chalk created an unsettling screech as it made contact, causing everyone in the room, including Ms. Jenkins, to jump.
My math teacher's face turned a shade of red that nearly matched the anger in her eyes. She slammed her hand down on her desk. "That's it, Y/N! Out of my class!"
I nodded in resignation, already familiar with this consequence. Without a word, I gathered my belongings and made my way to the door, past Ms. Jenkins, who was practically fuming.
Walking through the hallway, I could feel the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. It seemed that everything I did nowadays led to trouble, but I couldn't find it in me to care. The real pain in my life was waiting for me at home.
Arriving at the school office, I was informed that my outburst had earned me detention. I accepted the punishment without protest, just glad to be away from the judgmental glares of my fellow students. And glad to be able to stay away from home two hours longer.
Little did I know that this detention, and the events that would follow, would set off a chain of events that would change the course of my life. And it was Miss Romanoff who would play a crucial role in it.
Natasha's POV:
Walking down the school's familiar hallways, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in my students, especially the one who had recently joined my Russian class, Y/N. This young student had always struck me as reserved but eager to learn, displaying a quiet determination that I admired.
Today, however, something was wrong. As I walked past the classroom where Y/N had her class, my heart sank at the sight of her walking in. Our eyes met briefly, but the emptiness I saw in hers sent shivers down my spine. It was as if the light within her had dimmed, and I couldn't ignore the sinking feeling that something terrible had happened.
I continued to walk towards my classroom and prepared my lessons for today. Y/N's class was next so I knew I needed to keep an eye on her. Not much later I caught a glimpse of someone walking through the hallway I couldn't get a good look on who it was though.
The next class started, and I couldn't shake the feeling of concern for Y/N, when I saw her arriving a bit late. But I couldn't help but feel relieved that she was here. She had her hood over her head, looking down at the ground.
As the class began, I assigned the students a task to work on, hoping that this would provide an opportunity for Y/N to catch up. But my main focus was on her. I observed her from my desk, noting her struggle to concentrate on the assignment.
When the class ended, I dismissed the other students, asking them to complete the assignment for homework. As they filed out, I approached Y/N and asked her to stay behind. The worry in her eyes was evident, and I wanted to offer her a safe space to talk.
Y/N's POV:
When the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Miss Romanoff looked at me with a reassuring smile. "Y/N, I need you to stay behind for a moment. The others can go ahead."
I watched as my classmates gathered their belongings and left the classroom. I felt a mix of curiosity and anxiety as I wondered what Miss Romanoff wanted to discuss further. She closed the door behind the last student and turned her attention back to me.
"Y/N, are you okay? You don't seem like yourself today." She asked, her eyes soft and filled with concern.
''I'm fine'' I whispered my voice cracking slightly, not daring to look in her eyes.
Miss Romanoff sits down on a chair next to me, ''Hey, look at me'' I slowly looked up ''It's okay, you're in a safe space here''
Her kind and perceptive gaze encouraged me to open up a little. I swallowed the lump in my throat and replied, "It's just... home is not a great place for me. My dad..." I hesitated, unable to voice the painful reality I faced daily.
Miss Romanoff's expression remained empathetic, and she nodded in understanding. "I'm really sorry to hear that, Y/N. Remember that there are people who want to help you, and you don't have to go through this alone."
I gave her a small nod and removed the hood from my head, now fully looking up at her. She released a small gasp, making me look back down again.
''Oh sweetheart, let me grab you an ice pack''
Miss Romanoff quickly fetched an ice pack and handed it to me. I gently pressed it against my bruised cheek, grateful for her care. The cool sensation was soothing, and it felt like a comforting touch I had longed for.
"Thank you," I whispered, finally meeting her gaze once more.
She offered a warm smile. "You're welcome, Y/N. Just remember, if you ever need to talk or just a safe place to be, my classroom is always open to you."
Then, her voice became more resolute. "In fact, why don't you spend the rest of the day with me? You can finish your detention in my classroom. I... I don't like the idea of you going back to that situation."
Her suggestion took me by surprise, and a glimmer of hope flickered within me. "You mean I don't have to go home?"
She nodded. "You can come with me. We'll figure things out together."
Tears started to form in my eyes, ''Can I give you a hug sweetheart?'' She asked while opening her arms, I nodded and fell into her arms. Finallyfeeling safe for the first time ever.