A/N: warning!⚠️ this chapter contains physical and verbal abuse, as well as self harm. If this is a trigger for you then I advise you to skip this chapter. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it!
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Hello my name is Makayla DelCastillo. I'm fourteen years old and going into my first year of high school. My mother's name is May, or I guess I should say her name was May. She passed away when I was twelve.
She told me that my birth father left us for some other women and wanted nothing to do with me or her. When I was seven my mom got married to a man named Darrell. She started doing drugs. She changed, and started to treat me differently.
After a year they started to hit me. And by the time I was ten I was getting beat at least once a day. I thought that was as bad as it would get, but when my mom overdosed Darrell blamed me for it and now beats me close to death at least once a week. I know it is not great but that's my life.
I heard the annoying ringing of my alarm clock going off. I groaned as I turned it off not wanting to start another day in this heck hole.
I carefully got out of bed trying not to further hurt my injuries from yesterday. I over cooked his food yesterday so he beat me. It wasn't the worst beating that I ever received, but it still hurt.
I limped over to my bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. All I saw staring back at me was a hideous girl. My skin was way too pale, my hair was a tangled mess and I was way too overweight.
I only get to eat twice a week if I'm lucky. I get his scraps sometimes if he's feeling nice. I saw the back eye forming yesterday as well. I stripped off my clothes and turned on the shower, sick of looking at myself.
I stepped into the shower and turned on the cold water. Darrel says that I don't deserve warm water and that I should be grateful that I got to shower In the first place.
I quickly scrubbed off all of the dried blood and dirt off of my body. I turned the water off and got out. I dried myself off and changed into some clothes.
I don't have very many clothes and what I do have isn't the nicest, but again I'm lucky to have anything. I threw on a pair of jeans full of holes, and no I did not buy them like that. I also threw on an old long sleeve shirt that belonged to my mother.
I looked at my alarm clock and saw that it was 5:47. "Crap" I mumbled to myself. I have thirteen minutes to make breakfast for Darrell or else I'm going to get beat. I quickly rushed out of my room forgetting about my sprained ankle.
I winced from the pain and stubbled a little bit but quickly regained my balance and continued on my way. Now getting down the stairs was the hardest part. After a minute or two I finally made it down and limped into the kitchen.
The clock on the wall said that I had about ten minutes to cook Darrell's breakfast. I started with the eggs, stirring them in a bowl with a little bit of milk, cheese, salt and pepper. I then poured it into the hot skillet letting it cook.
I then grabbed three slices of bacon and put them into another skillet to cook. The food finished in about seven minutes. As I placed the food on the table and poured him a glass of orange juice. Just as I was putting away the orange juice I heard the heavy thud of his boots coming down the stairs.
I lowered my head to the ground as he walked into the kitchen. That was one of the rules that I had to follow or else I would be punished. Having breakfast ready was another one.
1.) Only speak when given permission
2.) Never look at anyone in the eyes
3.) Call him and any friends that may come over sir
4.) Have breakfast and dinner ready
5.) Do all of your chores every day
6.) Don't try to run
7.) No hospitals
8.) Never tell anyone what happens here
Numbers six through eight are the most important rules. I tried to run away last year but he found me and beat me close to death. I couldn't walk for a week and ended up with seven broken bones.
I snapped back to reality when I saw his ugly brown boots in front of me. "Is my breakfast ready slut" he growled at me. "Y...yes sir" I managed to stutter out.
His hand came crashing down on my face. I fell to the ground from the hard impact of the slap. "Did I tell you to speak whore" he roared. I shook my head and tried to stand up.
Before I could get back onto my feet I felt the metal toes of his boots hit me in the ribs. I heard the sickening sound of the crack. I agin fell to the floor coughing. He spit on me walking to his breakfast but not before telling me that he wanted the house to be spotless when he returns from work.
I crawled out of the kitchen and over to the stairs. I used the railing to help me stand up and to make it up the stairs.
I heard the front door open and slam close. I limped into my room then into my bathroom. I looked in my drawer for my razor. I finally found it and took it out. I rolled up my left sleeve and looked at it.
It was covered in scars and bruises. I took the razor blade and cut.
One for being ugly
two for killing my mom
three for being useless
four for how pathetic I am
five for how weak I am.
I washed the blood off and put the razor up before starting on my chores.
After about three hours I managed to clean the entire house, and do all of the laundry. Once I finished with my chores I grabbed my old laptop and started on school.
I wasn't allowed to go to a normal school because Darrell thought some one might notice all of the bruises. Being homeschooled wasn't the worst thing in the world though. I just read online text books and then completed some kind of online worksheet. Then at the end of every school year I would take a test to see if I passed or not.
I finished school by five and went down to start working on dinner. I grabbed some chicken breast, sautéed veggies and potatoes. I decided to start on the mashed potatoes since that would take the most time.
I peeled them all before placing them in a pot of boiling water. While the potatoes were boiling I started to cut all of the vegetables up and put them in a pan with some butter.
In another pan I put two slices of seasoned chicken breast to cook. I drained the water from the potatoes and started to mash them. I added some milk, butter, sour cream, and a pinch of salt. Once that was done I flipped the chicken and took the vegetables off of the stove.
I waited another three minutes for the chicken to cook. It was 5:59 by the time that the chicken finished. I plated all of the food and set the table. I placed his food on the table and a beer to go with it. That was the last one so I'm going to have to remember to pick one up tomorrow at the grocery store.
As I was walking back into the kitchen to clean up I heard his car pull into the driveway. I rushed into the kitchen to clean. I've learned that as long as I'm out of his eyesight and his dinner is ready then I can save myself a beating.
I heard him come in and go straight to the table to eat. I let out a silent sigh of relief that he wasn't going to hit me right then. I washed all of the dishes and put them up before creeping up to my bedroom.
Once a week I get to leave the house and go to the grocery store. I usually check the lost and found for clothes but last week when I checked it I found something even better, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Aston! I don't know who would bring that to a grocery store, but i'm so glad that they did.
I grabbed the hidden book and started to read. After about an hour I heard some commotion coming from downstairs. That's never a good sign. "Get down her slut" Sir yelled. I rushed out of my room not wanting to anger him any further. I winced from the pain in my rib and ankle but I made it work, sorta.
I saw a broken flower vase on the floor and gulped. I entered the kitchen to see a livid Darrell. I quickly looked down at my bare feet. "Where the fuck are the rest of my beers" he roared out.
"You...ummm...you h...had th...the last one a...at dinner sir" I stuttered out. "Then you should have bought more you fucking whore" he yelled at me.
Before I could react I felt an empty beer bottle collide with my head. I fell to the ground landing on more broken glass. He stepped on my ribs breaking at least two more. He then picked me up by my throat.
He was squeezing all of the air out of my lungs. His smiling face started to get fuzzy, but right when I thought the universe was going to show me some sympathy he dropped me onto the ground.
I started coughing and wheezing, whatever it took to get more air into my lungs. "Your so fucking pathetic" he spit out before kicking me one last time in the head for good measures.
I felt everything start to spin but not before I heard the front door slam open then slammed shut. Once I heard that I faded into the dark abyss that we call sleep.