"Stupid bitch" Blows hitting my face made my balance disappear, but his hold on the back of my head makes me stay up. "Let me go!" I beg, just like I have been for the last twenty minutes since I pissed him off by not making his mother's meatloaf correctly. His eyes are darker when he hears me speak, throwing me to the tiled floor of our condos kitchen. Blood creeps down my bottom lip and lands beside my palms onto the tile. My eye almost swollen completely shut, from his constant fist. My ribs ache from his work boots with a steel toe. "Clean up, I'm going to bed." Nodding at him, he left me and mumbles under his breath as he goes. Tears fall down my face and I try to stand, but my body is so weak I almost fall right back down. Using the counter, I pull myself onto my feet, and using it to keep my balance stable. I'd been through this many times before. Almost used to beatings when things weren't right, and by four years you'd think I'd have them right, not exactly. Picking up the cereal box, that i only ever had, I stick my blood stained hand in and went to the bottom, pulling out the burner I stashed last week when I got paid. Dialing the one number I knew by heart,Gemma Teller. My dads childhood best friend. "Hello?" Her voice was questionable, and I couldn't blame her. "Gemma? It's Sarah. I need some help."