Take me Away

Hannah was never loved, or cared for. She was worthless; at least that was all she ever heard. ‘Nobody wants you. You’re just trash, a waste of oxygen.’ They said. However one day things change... Hannah knows things will...they have to.

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1. Chapter 1

Hannah's P.O.V

   I have always wondered what it would be like to have someone love me. To have someone comfort me when I cry and hold me when I'm scared. To tell me everything will be okay when it really isn't. Someone who would never hit me, and who would tell me they loved me and that nothing else mattered; but that is only something I could wish for. I doubt it'll ever happen. He tells me that I'm just a useless piece of garbage. A waste of space and of oxygen. He tells me I'll die alone, that nobody could save me. But still somewhere in my heart I still wish that it wasn't true. Maybe it is and I'm just in the state of denial. Nothing in my 17 years of life has told me any different; but all I cling onto is the hope that its not.      Laying in my bed, I hope sleep will take me to a place outside this windowless hell I call my room, yet knowing that my insomniatic mind won't let me. I'm far to scared to let myself be so defenseless. I need to be alert. I have to be alert. I never know when he will come. So I lay in bed ever night terrified that I will hear the dreaded sound of footsteps that only come from his leather shoes that signal he is coming. Please just let me sleep in peace for one day of my life. I chuckled grimly to myself for even asking for that.     'That is a wish that will never come true,' I think to myself as I stand up and walk over to my small crappy bathroom.      I look in the mirror. I've never a day in my life thought that I was pretty. Actually I hate to even look in the mirror. My hair is brown and falls into waves down to the middle of my back. My skin is pale from the lack of sunlight and my cheeks don't hold any color. I have pink lips that probably could look beautiful if I smiled, but I have no reason to smile.  Lastly I have large, blue eyes that show nothing but sorrow and seem way to big on my thin face and look even bigger with the dark circles under them. No, this girl is not pretty. She looks haunted.    *Squeak*..... *Squeak*.....*Squeak*    "Ohh dolly, come out and plaay!" He cooed in that disgusting sadist tone of his.       The horrible sound makes me shiver from head to toe. Evil, no, evil doesn't begin to describe him. This... demon, puts Satan himself to shame. Taking a deep breathe, I wandered back to my bed in the corner and awaited for the damage he would cause.    'Dear Lord, please don't let him hurt me.' I silently prayed to God; praying that he'll help me get through this.     *Squeak*....*Squeak*    What's the use. He is going to hurt me. He always does when he visits.    *Squeak*.... *Squeak*      No, what if he decides to kill me. NO! That cannot be the case. He still needs me. I have the information he wants. He's not going to kill me?! He isn't, right?!     *Squeak*      Welcomed by a hard slap across my face, I snapped out of my daze. There stood _him_. His 6'1 frame stood over me, his cold, green eyes met mine for a brief second. I stared down at my feet, clutching them closer to me. The air in the atmosphere was intense, you could feel his hatred towards me as I did of him. For as many years as I've known him, I've never got used to his cruel ways. I always believed that maybe this time he would actually pity me and have some mercy but not a single time have I've been correct.    "YOU DIRTY WHORE. WHY WON'T YOU DIE ALREADY. TELL ME WHERE THE DOCUMENTS ARE." He screamed as he made an attempt to kick my stomach which was protected by my legs.       Heh, I will never tell him where they are. My mother died hiding them, well that's what he said once when he was really drunk, I won't let her efforts go to waste. What good has he done for me? Why should I help him when all he does is abuse me? Never have I done anything wrong and yet I'm punished. I rather die than help him.      He looks innocent like a child; most women will describe him as rather handsome. Yet he's a monster at true nature. Looks can be very deceiving. Silently, I take every hit he throws. I lay there emotionless, not a tear is tainted on my face. I know better. If I dared make a sound or weep, the treatment would be worst.     "Hm, the little slut won't talk, huh?" He says mockingly. I didn't reply. I just sat there on my bed, covered with multiple bruises and cuts. Even if I wanted to, I doubt I would be able to say anything. As he raised a hand, about to slap me, I mustered up my strength to dodge it. Wrong move.    "HOW DARE YOU?! Yo-you little!" He continues to yell at me. Resuming to beat me, I soon couldn't understand what the nasty words that was coming out of his mouth were. Slowly, I fell out of consciousness, letting the darkness engulfed me. 

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