My wounds are still fresh and bleeding on my pale skin. All I want to do is get out of here away from him and his hands, his torture; but I can't. Every time I try He finds out and I fail my escape, then he beats me for it, saying I'm not great full for the things I have, by then I start to cry from his words and actions. He says I deserve another hit for crying because real humans don't cry a tear, that they don't even think about it, they suck up the pain and work through it. When he finally stops I am weak and sore, I just lay on the cold hard wood floor crying from the pain and thinking what I did to deserve this. "Serves you right for running away from all you have little girl," he says with a snicker and an evil but satisfied grin on he ugly scarred face. I heard him walk into the other room and despite all my pain ran upstairs to my room. I closed the door I locked it. I knew he would be mad at me for but for a while I just wanted to be away from him.
Every other day this happens, my mother goes to work, I get hit and yelled at, and then I go into my room until my mother gets home. Is there no escape? I don't want to be in this house anymore! I never want to even be in the same room with him anymore! He's supposed to be my father! The person I come to for advice and comfort, not the one thing I fear most.
My mom tried to do something about it once: It was early in the week and it was raining. I know it was raining because I kept asking my father if I could go outside and play in the rain. I only asked it a couple of times, but I got annoyed and hit the side of my face so hard I fell onto the floor the moment after his hand smacked me. My mom must have heard it because she came running out of the next room to see me lying on the floor cradling my burning cheek and crying from the pain. "What the hell did you do to my baby girl?!" she screamed at my father while running to my aid. "The little bitch deserved it!," he responded between sips of his adored beer bottle. My mother helped me up and brought me into the kitchen without saying anything more to my father. She picked me up and set me on the counter to clean up my cheek which was starting to bruise and bleed slightly.
My father must have followed us into the kitchen without us seeing him because he asked in his hash and scratchy voice, "Why the hell do you even care about the little rat brat? All she is is trouble!" that comment made my mother snap and before I knew what was happening she and my father were screaming at each other! Everything changed when my mom slapped my father for something he said about me in the argument. The next thing I knew we were in the hospital waiting room. Of course when the doctor asked what had happened my father lied and said my mother had tripped over something in the kitchen and had hit her head on the side of the table. That's when the doctor turned to me with worried eyes and voice and asked, "Little girl? What has happened to your left cheek?" It was then I had remembered what had happened. I looked at my father's face and saw his face angry. I looked to the doctor's still worry worn face and I was about to tell him everything that had happened that night, that my father lied, that mother didn't fall, and that my father hits me whenever he gets the chance, but I didn't because I knew if I did I would have a very large punishment waiting for me at home. So I lied to the doctor, "My cheek?" I said glancing at my father, "I-I-I-I um I accidently um accidently tripped when I was um playing outside in the rain?" I finished more in a question than in a statement. The doctor didn't seem to believe the lie I told him, but he smiled sadly at me and walked away after telling us that he'll be informing us about mother's condition soon.
I must have fallen asleep on my floor because the next thing I knew I could hear my mother almost running up the stairs while screaming at my father. She knocked on my door and unlocked my door with the key only she had. She opened the door and I looked at her with tear filling eyes. She came to sit with me on my floor, her back against my bed her arm outstretched towards me and I climbed into her lap and cried. We both cried. We just sat on floor and cried. Before I dozed into the sweet escape of sleep, my mother whispered something into my ear that I couldn't make out before I could ask her what she said I fell asleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night still in my mother's warm embrace. I got up and walked to my closed door. I grabbed the door knob and turned it to the right and pulled the door open. I stepped into the hall and walked down the dark passageway as quietly as I could. When I got to the top of the stairs I got a glimpse of the living room and could see that the TV was off so my father was in the basement asleep, probably passed out.
I walked back to my room and found my little pink backpack that I had already packed with clothes and some food and water. Now was my chance to do this. Now or never. I walked to my mother I gently kissed her forehead and whispered 'I love you.' I walked back into the hall and went across it into my mother and father's room. I got the piece of paper I had written my note on I read it over to make sure I didn't miss anything:
Im sorry I left. I don't want to live here anymore with him.
He is mean and he hits me all the time when you are at work. I do not want him to do that anymore. Im going to leave but remember that I love you. I will come back when he is gone.
With leaving it where I knew she was going to see it, I quietly walked out of her room and down the hall to the top of stairs. I checked the living room and from what I could see of it, no one was in there. I crept slowly down the stairs, slipped on my purple sneakers, took one last look at the living room with my hand on the door knob of the front door, opened the door letting the hot summer breeze flow in, and ran out closing the door behind me.
a/n: yes the prelude to Red Painted Cigarette Lips! Please leaves reveiws and let me know what you think! should i leave it with one chapter? should i add more?