Can't Be Helped

My life is full of so-called 'accidents'. I'm sick of them.
I'm sick of living this way.
I have to do something now.
Or it could stay life this forever.


1. Abuse Me, But My Pride Stays.

I was minding my own business, reading my book when dad burst through the door.

I had just enough time to shut my book before he grabbed me by the throat and threw me to the floor. Pain swelled in my sides as he continuously kicked my ribcage, yelling, 'God will never forgive you! You were born to worship Satan! You are a disgrace to this family!'

He pulls out his bible from under his jacket and raises it above his head.

He slams the bible down on my face and stamps on my leg.

Firey pains flow through my leg and my face aches. He spits at me before picking up his bible and slamming my bedroom door.

I beg of you, don't be surprised, this happens on a daily basis. No one ever knows, or will ever find out though. I am a disgrace and I am to keep my mouth shut, apparently. My dad is a total dick head. He is very religious and gives his life to God. Ever since I was little, he said my ginger hair was a sign of Satan and I was not to be kept. He wanted to give me up for adoption, or fake an 'accident'. Of course my mother wouldn't let him. But now he just keeps her locked up in her bedroom and listens to nothing she says. I hardly ever see her, only in the precious moments when dad isn't in the house and I can sneak into their room for 5 minutes before he gets back. He never leaves me alone in the house for too long, he says I will 'get into mischief'.

I know most teenage girls say it, but, I hate my dad. They never mean it of course, but I do. I always have and I always will. He beats me all the time, and my mum, and I'd be willing to bet that he has raped her loads of times. She's far too scared to leave him. And I'm far too scared to make her.

I'm never allowed out of the house in my spare time, and I'm banished to my room until my dad says I can come out, which is hardly ever. Surprisingly, my only escape route is school. I love school, I can get away from all the crap at home. Even though I do sometimes get taunted at school, it's far better than the constant beatings and name callings at home.

Mum once told me that dad has believed in God ever since my older brother died. Dad blames his death on me, which makes no sense.


I sit up gingerly, wincing at the sharp stabbing pains in my leg. Thankfully it's not broken. I'd know if it was, I've gotten used to these things. I wipe away the droplets of sweat that had formed on my forehead and cautiously rise to my feet. My leg hurts like crazy, there's bound to be a bruise there tomorrow.

The noise of gushing water is loud in my ears as I squirt some orange bubblebath into the running tub. Spicy but sweet aromas swirl through my nostrils as the liquid eventually mixes in with the water. I carefully clamber into the tub, turning the taps off and sit back into the bath.

As I lie here I think to myself, but do not dare say aloud, 'You can kick me, punch me and call me names but my pride is still and will forevermore be here.' Before I can slip under the steaming soapy water, once again, my dad bursts in with his bible in one hand and his whip in the other.

"I never said you could come out of your room!" He thunders. I can't believe he has a whip! I have never seen it before and he has never used it!
Behind him I hear a gasp and an extremely concerned voice shouts, 'Gary, no! You'll kill her!'

No! My mother came out of her room without permission!
"Shut up, you whore!" He whips her across the face and she plummets to the floor, her crimson blood already dripping down her face.

"Now, you. YOU need to be severely punished for your sins." He raises his hand holding the whip, and before I know what I'm doing, I grab the toothbrush holder, smash it on the tub and skid across the floor and ram it into his leg.

He yells out in pain and I dodge around him and slam into my room.

I have to get out of here, and fast.

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