I quietly walked into my house, knowing that if i made to much noise dad would get mad. I walked into the kitchen to get some food but stopped when I saw my father sitting in his chair.
"Good morning Grace." He said without looking up from his news paper. His black hair was combed back and he had a suit on. He is into politics.
"Morning father, how are you today?" I asked, not wanting him to get in a bad mode.
"Im fine and you?" He said. I answered that I felt good before I made my way to the refrigerator. I decided to eat cerials and milk and sat down at the table with my dad. He put the news paper away and looked at me. I felt scared that I would do something wrong, like I always did.
I started to eat and almost made it through my breakfast without any complications... I dropped my spoon into the bowl so milk dropped down on the table. My fathers eyes got hard and I hurried to clean it up, but it was to late.
"10 strikes." Was all he said and I felt like crying.
"But it was an accide..." I started but was cut of by my father who raised a hand.
"10 more." I was quiet and put my bowl away. My mother walked in the moment I walked out, dad stood up and gave her a kiss before he followed me out.
The walk to my room felt long, it always did, with the white, clean walls in the house I was always afraid I would make them dirty just by looking at them. I walked into my room, dad shut the door behind him and locked it. It was like this everyday, at least 2 times a day, sometimes more.
"Your shirt." He said with his dark voice. I removed my shirt and turned my back to him, facing my blue wall. He took of his belt and the first strike came. The pain I felt vibrated through my body, but I was used to this, I needed to concentrate on the fire burning inside of me, otherwise I would colapse long before I counted to 20.
"One." I said. He stroke again and I clenched my jawn.
"two." I kept counting, still trying to concentrate on something else. When I had counted to 15 my back was already dripping of blood, the walls in my room was turning black and I was bent over my dest to stop myself from falling. I couldn't count anymore so dad did it instead.
"16, 17!" he said and his belt cut through my skin. I bit my lip so I wouldn't scream.
"18." strike "19" strike "20" He unlocked the door and walked out. I couldn't move and after about 5 minutes my mom came inte my room with a bowl of wather, a smal towel and bandage. She cleand my back and made sure that I stoped bleeding. She don't speak to me when this happen, sometimes she cry but she don't say anything.
I put my shirt back on and walked out, dad left for work and as soon as the door closed my mother began to speak.
"You are going to live at my sisters place in Doncaster for a while sweete. I can't stand this, I love your father but this is too much." she said, i stared at her without emotion.
"Aren't you coming too?" I asked. She shook her head no.
"No, I stay here. Jay will take care of you and all of you cousins will be thrilled too se you! you are going too share room with Lottie. Jay will pick you up at 3, but right now you need to pack your bag! " Her blue eyes told me not to argue with her so I hurried to pack my bags. When I was done I called my best friend Stacy and told her that I was moving away for awhile, she didn't know about my father breating me so I didn't thell her the whole story but etherway she was sad when we ended the call. After that I didn't have much time left.
I sat down on my bed and looked into the mirror. My brown wavy hair was tied up into a messy bun, I had a shirt that was too big and jeans. The smile on my pinkish lips didn't reach my clear eyes but it looked real anyway.
When Jay came to pick me up both mum an her was crying. The both kept hugging me and telling me I would be ok. I kept thinking that my mum didn't want me anymore, thats why she is sending me away and are staing with my dad. How could she love him? Everyday since she have wached him beat me till I collapsed and more.
When I got in the car with Jay she told me about how their life was in Doncaster and how happy everyone was that I was going to live with them. It felt so good to leave the house, to leave dad and the white and blue walls in my room, to leave my bed, the kitchen, my mom.