Pain shot down my arm and I screamed in agony as the belt hit my shoulder. Tears streamed down my face as my father hit me another time across my back.
"Now get ready for school and get out." He said and left my bedroom. Yes, my parents abused me. I had to deal with it because I was too afraid to tell anyone.
Silently, I got off of the floor and got dressed into the school uniform. A white long sleeved shirt, a skirt that went 3/4s the way down my thighs, knee high socks, and then pulled my hair back into a (f/c) ribbon.
To avoid getting beaten again, I quickly finished getting ready and then slipped out of the house and walked to school.
School wasn't bad at all. In fact, I enjoyed it a lot because I could get away from my parents.
I made it just in time for first period and took my seat.
Mr. Bonnefoy, the French teacher, wrote the assignment up on the board and said we could choose to work with partners if we decided.
He was my favorite teacher and was very kind and caring to...