MC Presidents Broken Angel

***Piper*** How did I end up here? How did my life turn for the worse? What happened to the dreams I once had and the life I wanted? Oh, that's right. Peter Holden is what happened. He came into my life and turned it upside down. My mind drifted back to how sweet he was when we first met, how caring and attentive he was, and how he only had eyes for me when we were in a room full of people. I was jolted out of my thoughts when I was roughly picked up off the floor and then slammed into the wall, knocking the wind out of me. "You stupid b***h," his deep voice filled the air around me, his spit flying and hitting me in the face. "Can't you do anything right!" His hand gripped my hair, pulling my head back and tilting my face up as he glared down at me. "I'm sorry," I croaked out, even though I hadn't done anything. He flew off the handle for no reason. But then again, he never needed one. I wasn't even sure what caused him to flip his lid tonight. He was in a mood when he returned home, and I knew it would be a long night. But I thought he would have waited a bit. But with one look at the table and the food, he was suddenly out of his chair, punching me so hard I flipped backward, and the chair crashed to the floor. "Damn right, you are." With those words, he stepped back, letting go of my hair. I started to slide down the wall when another hard hit landed on my jaw, making the back of my head slam into the wall. Black spots danced in my sight as it became blurry. I heard him snicker, and that was the last thing I heard before everything went completely black. Waking sometime later, I can feel the coolness of the floor against my cheek. I am lying in a heap, rolling, so I'm on my back. I winced and groaned as pain ripped through my body. There were no lights on, and the room was dark. I took a minute to listen, but I did not hear him. Tears fell as I lay there, covering my mouth with my hand to muffle my sobs. I let myself lie there for a few seconds before I slowly and painfully picked myself up. My eyes scanned the room. I couldn't see too well out of one eye. It must have been swollen. No lights were on downstairs, and I did not hear the TV. He must have left. Looking at the table, I turned away. I would come back and clean it up. Making my way upstairs, I winced at every step I took. I reached my room, went in, and headed straight to the bathroom. I knew I had dried blood on me and in my hair. My head must have been split when it slammed into the wall. Turning on the shower, I stripped out of my clothes and glimpsed myself in the mirror. My body was covered in scars and bruises. My bottom lip was split in two places, and my left eye was swollen halfway shut. I was going to have a nasty bruise on my cheek where he clocked me. Turning, I looked at my back, and sure enough, there were light bruises where I had hit the wall. Stepping into the shower, the water sprayed over my body. I winced as it hit an open cut on the back of my head. Washing up, I made sure to clean the cuts and wash my hair as best I could without causing more pain than I was already in. I got out, dried off, threw on some loose-fitting clothes, and returned to clean up the food. I peeked out the window by the door, but his truck wasn't in the driveway. Hopefully, he would stay out all night. After putting away all the food and picking up the broken chair, I spotted a small bloody spot on the wall. Well, that had to be from my head. After tossing the chair outside by the trash can, I went to clean the wall. Now I'm in the kitchen putting the last dishes in the dishwasher. I glance at the clock: just after two a.m. Dragging my tired and highly sore body upstairs, I go to my room and shut the door. I wish I could lock it, but that would result in another beating for locking him out of his room. Even when he entertains others, I'm forced to sleep in the guest room. Opening the drawer of my nightstand, I took out the small bottle of tablets and took two, hoping they would help a little with the pain. I curled up in bed. My body was sore and tired. My mind is just as bad. I felt so broken. I used to be full of energy and happiness. I loved my life, and I had big plans. I wanted to complete college and secure my dream job. I would save, buy a house, find Mr. Right, settle down, and have a family. I had always dreamed of a family, but never had one growing up. I never knew my parents and did not have any siblings. I was alone for a long time. That was probably why, when Peter strolled into my life, I clung to the attention he showed me. I longed for the love of another, but it made me blind to his true colors; I fell for every word he spoke. I should have listened to my best friend. She warned me. She didn't like Peter. She kept telling me there was something about him that didn't seem right, but I ignored her words; I didn't want to believe it. I finally had someone who looked at me like I was someone special, but now I do wish I had listened to her. At the thought of Molly, I felt fresh tears building. I hadn't seen her in years. I missed her. She and Peter had had it out a few years ago. I didn't want to choose between them. I tried to make peace between them, but neither would have it. Peter didn't want me to talk to her. He would get mad if I spent time with her; one day, I went to see her, and she told me we couldn't be friends anymore. Then she closed the door in my face. I tried reaching out to her for a week, but then she just up and left, and I never saw her again. I fell asleep with the thought of my long-lost friend on my mind, the life I missed, and how I wished I could get a do-over so I could choose a different path, one without Peter Holden in it.