Just another Princess .L.H.

To this day I have been sold, sold to a man who calls me princess, who brought me. I have been given instructions. On what's right and what's wrong in this house. The only one that is a problem is that I'm not to fall in love with my master. 4 years ago I had a fight with the drunk I call a farther, 4 years ago I made a choice, a choice to run away. 4 years ago I would be safe at home, in my bed. To this day I have been sold, sold to a man who calls me princess, who brought me.

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2. beaten

4 years ago. Sky's POV

'Fuck.' I gasp as I walk down my drive way, seeing my farther's black Sudan. 'He's home.' I take a deep shaky breath in as I prepare myself.

I sigh quietly opening the door as I enter my house. Trying my best not to make a sound I shut the door slowly. Thanks to my drunk farther the house smells strongly of alcohol.

I stop at the door frame leading into the lounge room and slowly poke my head around the corner to see if he was there. I freeze when my pale green eyes meet his dark brown. He smirks stumbling off his chair.

I turn letting my feet carry me upstairs. I trip about seven stairs up, spraining my ankle. I Hubble the rest of the way to my room, making sure dad was far behind.

My hands become shaky as I reach for my door knob. I struggle to turn it as his rough hand grabs my wrist tightly.

'You.' He growls with an almost animal tone.

'P-ple-ase, Do-n't.' I whimper with both fear and regret. Tears leak from my eyes, my mascara and eyeliner now running down my face with tears, as if they were having a race.

'DONT TELL ME WHAT TO FUCKING DO WHORE, IM YOUR FARTHER U FUCKING LISTEN TO ME.' He spits in my face.

My head suddenly colliding with a wall. Tears streaming down my face, I groan in pain. His filthy hands wrap around my neck, choking me.

After a few minutes he lets go, I gasp for air. I look up to see dad balling his hand into a fist. Before punching my stomach. I groan clutching my stomach as I fall to the ground. Sobbing historically

I bow my head in shame. Why do I put up with his shit? Maybe because he is the only person I have?

He screams causing me to look up at him in confusion, his fist meeting my eye. He continues to punch and kick my stomach and rib cage for an hour.

The pain isn't worth staying here, I'm leaving, tonight.

Dad finally stops getting tired. He turns to walk away before saying roughly.

'You fucking price of trash, Go kill yourself already. No one will miss you.' He stumbles down the stairs.

I continue to lay there, blood dripping from my nose, my left eye swollen shut. My stomach in purple and blue/black bruises.

------

I clutch my stomach as I stumble to my feet. My head spinning. For years I have been putting up that drunks shit, not anymore. Im sick of being treated like dirt.

My mother died when I was 6, she killed herself. She left because of my farther. He was always a drunk, couldn't stay away from the alcohol.

I'm now 18, old enough to know I don't have to put up with this anymore.

I throw my black backpack over my shoulders as I sigh. I open my window letting the cold air hit my cheeks. I climb through the window ducking my head so i don't hit it on the way out.

I walk along the thick tree branch the leads to my room. I climb down the tree earning a few splinters on the way down. I stop at a branch a few meters from the ground. It's the lowest hanging branch. I bend my knees preparing to jump.

I've climbed this tree a million times. Both down an up. Every night after my farther would go to sleep I would sneak out to clubs or to just go for a walk.

I let my feet leave the branch as I front flip off. My feet soon connecting with the ground again. I flip my black hood over my head and begin to run.

I have no idea where I'm going, or where I'll end up, i just let my feet carry me. Anywhere is better then home.

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