A blank face with no name.

This is for the bullying comp, its about a girl who gets bullied and abused by her Dad, I wrote this to Youth- by daughter
and Payphone- by maroon 5



1. ...


A bullet. A small tiny compact piece of lead. So small, but so powerful. Powerful enough to end a life. To send someones soul to the afterlife, their empty body pale and lifeless. 

But a bullet is not just a way of causing death and pain. It can also protect, or offer relief from the hollowness the world offered.

Yes, when paired with a gun, most people see it as a threat. A danger. Something that could hurt them, or alter their life in some unchangeable way. But not me. No. To me, it is an escape, a beacon of light that offers a way out. 

I knew that once I wrapped my slender fingers around the cold, dead metal, that I would feel hope. Hope for an end to the torture of jagged emotions, that scarred me from the inside. Hope for a way to be free. To not be tied down by my sinking diseased heart.


I reached forward, pressing my hand against the cold glass of my bedroom window. Condensation made tracks, as it dripped off my warm hand onto the pale carpet. I sunk down onto the floor, dragging my hand down the window. Watching as the hazy outside world disappeared from view.

Tears began to roll from my dark eyes, leaving my cheeks damp. I wrapped my arms around my legs, curling into a tight little ball, as I chocked back sobs that threatened to rack my body. How had I ended up here? The girl with everything. The girl who smiles and laughs, but is actually dying inside. Just wanting to be understood, to be rescued from the dark abyss she was floating in.

I clenched my hands tightly into fists, until I began to tremble. My body shivering beneath the thin layers of fabric that covered me.

“Pathetic.” I choked on the word as it slipped from my lips. “Pathetic.” I repeated.


I clamped my mouth shut, as my bedroom door creaked noisily on its hinges. A cold shadow fell across me, fear filling my hollow body.

“Get up.” A husky, all to familiar voice growled, clamping a solid hand around my arm and yanking me forcefully to my feet. “I said get up you worthless piece of shit!” He bellowed in my ear. I flinched away from his devilish form, wishing I could just disappear into thin air. I stayed silent, knowing all to well how it only angered him when I spoke. “What are you doing in here?”

“Nothing, I was just-”

“You know what, I don’t even care. Just get out of my sight.” He spat, disgust and revulsion dripping from his words. I hesitated, for a split second wondering what it would be like to stick up for myself for once. “I said go!” He erupted, lashing out at me with his hand. A slicing pain cut across my face, as my head whipped around. I clutched my cheek, unable to stop the tear that escaped from my welling eyes.

“Go!” He yelled raising his hand again.

I did as I was told, quickly scampering out of the room. I hurried down the thin corridor before dashing out of the front door. All of the tears I had held back rolled down my cheeks, my heart hammering loudly in my chest.


It never used to be like this, I was once part of a wholesome, loving family. My mum, dad and we would all sit around watching films, laughing and joking like any normal family.

Then one day it all changed. Mum left, and dad blamed me. My life began to crash down around me, my grades slipping, my friends drifting away, and quickly I fell into a dark whole of depression.


I sprinted down the road, putting as much distance between me and the monster that hated my very being. My bare feet slapped against the tarmac, as the rain began to pour around me. Within a few minutes I was drenched, cold shivers rippling through me. ‘Just keep running.’ I told myself. ‘Nothing can hurt you if you just keep running.’

I don’t know how long I had been running for, but my legs felt weak as I stumbled forward and crashed down to the floor. Once again I curled into ball, trying to make myself as small and as invisible as possible. I didn’t bother trying to hold back the ugly sobs that escaped my mouth, there was no point. I just wanted it all to end, to wake up and realize that it was only a dream. That my mum was in the kitchen making pancakes, my dad sat at the table watching the news and smiling at my mum like she was the angel he had been searching for his whole life. But it wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t even a nightmare. It was my life. The harsh reality that I had to live with everyday. And there was nothing I could do about it. Or was there? The thought of taking my own life played around in my mind frequently, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I would graduate from high-school with the best grades I could get, and make something of my life. Maybe one day I would get married and have kids, and make sure they never felt the way I do. I would be the parent that every child deserved, and make them feel loved and cherished every day of their lives.


I would do everything in my power to make sure that I never, ever became a mirror of my parents.

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...