The Abused Girl |Old Version|

Chapter Six

CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT.

Worry filled me up as Daniel began to ask questions. There were days where I had to stay home due to the extent of my injuries, and those days were becoming more and more often. John was becoming braver with how far he could take everything. It scared me with how fearless he was becoming. I wouldn't be surprised if one day he ended up killing his own daughter.

Despite all my begging and pleading, Daniel refused to let me sit alone at lunch. Every day, he followed me out and sat down in my favourite spot, and while I wasn't great at conversing with people, Daniel had a way of making it comfortable. He was happy with spending the hour chatting away while I just sat and listened. He told me about his family, his childhood, his favourite shows and often went on a tangent about his best friends who were all in a different school.

Daniel was funny. His stories made me genuinely laugh and smile even though that day, I might not have felt like it. That worried me because I knew I would soon start to get more attached to this friendship, thinking it could actually go somewhere, yet John's threats and warnings kept ringing through my head.

John slammed his hand down on the table, making the plates and cups clatter. He leaned forwards in his chair, his knife gripped tightly in his hand.

"I don't want to see you talking to anyone from that school," he said. "If I do, well let's just say, accidents happen sometimes." He threatened.

So, there I was, in Chemistry, forcing my eyes to the front of the class. I refused to look at him, even though I could feel him burning a hole in the side of my head. Miss Holland droned on about how we were starting Stoichiometry today, when Daniel suddenly leaned forward, near me. He came close to my ear and whispered.

"Are you okay?"

I gulped. Calm down Ana. Without looking at him, I replied nonchalantly, "I'm fine Daniel."

"Ana look at me." Daniel hissed quietly and gently grabbed my elbow under the table. I turned my head sideways not looking at him. John's warning started ringing again, reminding me of what I needed to be doing. He kept trying to get my attention So, I stood abruptly, shaking his hand off me, and everyone turned to look at me. I froze, not really thinking through my actions.

"Uhm. . . I feel sick Miss, is it alright if I go to the nurse?"

The teacher looked at me for second, her eyes sliding between Daniel and I, before nodding her head hesitantly. "Okay Ms. Montez. But be quick. I want you back in five."

I nodded and sped to the door, opening it quickly, before Daniel's voice sounded out through the room, surprising everyone.

"You can't avoid me forever Ana."

I froze before I left and slammed the door shut. "Just watch me," I muttered determinedly.

I didn't go down to see Maria, obviously, unless I wanted another awkward meeting with her examining me with her X-Ray eyes. Instead, I wandered down the hallway, towards my locker. I was just going to pick up my books and go home.

I froze when I heard two male voices coming from the direction, I was going in. Their guffaws and chuckles were getting louder and I froze like a deer caught in the headlights as soon as I saw who they were. The two guys also stopped, smirks overcoming their faces.

"Well well well," Mike slowly enunciated. "Look who it is," He shoved my shoulder a little bit. "It's Little Miss Freaky."

George then stepped closer to me, sneering in my face. "I got suspended for a week because of you bitch."

My eyes widened at the vicious stares I was receiving. "I - I didn't mean. . ."

"Aw, look at her George." Mike jeered. "She's shaking, the poor thing."

My eyes looked left and right hoping a teacher, or someone would walk by but classes were on at the moment, and I knew no one would.

Mike pushed me back roughly against a locker. "You're going to pay for what you did, you good for nothing piece of shit." He spat. His cold blue eyes were narrowed into slits as he glared at me. "Do you know how much trouble I got into with my parents because of you?"

My mouth opened and closed pathetically.

"f*****g b***h can't even speak Mike." George laughed.

Without warning, Mike slammed his clenched fist into my stomach. I let out a cry of pain before he quickly covered my mouth with his other hand. "Shut up you f*****g cry baby." He hissed before sending another punch to my stomach. His lips were twisted in a sinister smirk as he looked over to his friend. "Hey George, here you have a go. It's fun."

I looked over at George tearfully, pleading with my eyes for him not to but he simply smiled at Mike in gratitude before joining in. Eventually I stopped struggling in their holds knowing it was pointless. I couldn't do anything against two, well-built football players. I slouched against the lockers as they held me up, their fists going in on me, over and over. They didn't dare touch my face, just my arms and stomach.

After what seemed like an hour, but was probably ten minutes, Mike stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "I think we've proved our point George."

George nodded in agreement and let me drop to the floor with a small thud. "You won't be speaking out anymore will you Freak?"

I didn't have the energy to move but he grabbed my chin forcefully, making eye contact with me. "Answer me." He hissed.

"N-no." I whispered out, my eyelids threatening to close.

"Do you think we went too far?" I heard George ask as my eyes closed shut.

"Just put her in the supply closet and close the door. No one ever goes in there."

I felt my body being lifted and hauled somewhere but my body was too drained and tired to understand what as happening. Within seconds, I had fallen asleep.

~~~

MY EYES FLUTTERED open.

I groggily sat up, clutching my head. Where was I?

I looked around to see mops, buckets and other cleaning supplies. I shifted and grabbed the wall, hauling myself up. My body ached painfully but I stood up swaying slightly before straightening myself out. I quickly realized I was in the supply closet in school.

What time was it?

I reached for the door handle, pushing it open and peeking out. The halls were empty as I stepped out. I pulled out my phone from my pocket, looking at the time.

5:00PM

My eyes widened as I began to panic. John was definitely home by now. . . And I wasn't. His dinner was neither prepared or ready. I clutched my head as I felt a searing pain flash through it. The school technically was still open as clubs and sports often ran until six so I knew I would have no problem leaving.

I exited the school, the cool air rushing to my face. It felt nice and my headache eased slightly. I began walking home again.

I walked up to my door, and unlocked it. I was tense since John was probably there. How did my life even get like this? I wasn't someone for dwelling on the past too much. Memories sometimes could be painful, so I thought it was better if I just locked them away. I forced myself to not think of my past. I didn't know if that was a good thing to do or not, but I thought it helped me deal with all of this.

I didn't want to get Daniel, or anyone, involved in this, and I knew it sounded stupid and idiotic even, but I didn't want to hassle anyone. Some people might not understand, but that's how I am. I didn't like telling people my problems. I didn't want their pitiful looks. I kept things to myself and dealt with my own problems.

And then there was the golden question: Why not go to the police? It's one I've thought of a million times. Being free is something I've dreamed of, fantasized of. But that's all they were, dreams. Wishes that wouldn't ever come true.

The police would never help me or believe me, since most of them knew John since they were kids. John was known as a sophisticated, rich, mannerly person here. Who would believe me? A bratty teenager over someone they grew up with?

While yes, I had bruises all over me, and even if I did manage to get someone to believe me, he could afford the best lawyer, that would make me look pathetic. My plan right now, was just wait till I was eighteen, and get the hell out of here.

Great plan, right?

I cautiously opened my door, poking my head in. I winced at the loud freaking noise it made. Immediately I heard him stumbling towards me, and the sound of glass breaking. He was drunk.

Again.

The house that was once silent, was suddenly filled with noise. "Anastasia!" He roared. I heard another glass shatter. I whimpered slightly and quickly shut the door behind me. I could hear him pacing in the kitchen, knocking stuff off the shelves. He would always replace them the next day though. My hand trembled as I reached for the door knob, twisting it.

"Anastasia Valeria!" He shouted. His voice sent a spike of terror through me. My body was shaking already and my heart pounded in my chest.

I pushed open the kitchen door, taking a deep breath. He looked horrible. His hair was sticking up everywhere, his eyes bloodshot. I could smell the alcohol off of him from over here. He snapped his head up as soon as he heard me and marched in my direction. I took a step back quickly, looking around for exits.

He didn't give me much time to think, before grabbing my hair and yanking me to him. He roughly grabbed my chin, while I tried to get out of his grip. He forced me to look at him and opened his mouth. His breath stunk and his yellow teeth made my stomach churn.

"You look like her y'know." he sneered.

I started crying when he pushed me to the ground. "How is it fair?!" He suddenly shouted. "Huh?! How come you're here, but she had to die?!" He sent a forceful kick into my stomach and I curled myself into a ball.

It hurt. God, it hurt a lot.

"Please," I whispered, "John, please, stop."

He looked down at me, and pulled me up by my hair. "Stop?" He chuckled darkly. "Don't you see? I can't,"

He backhanded me; however, it didn't hurt much. Maybe I was becoming used to the pain too much, that I didn't feel it anymore.

He pushed me away then and slowly backed away. For a second, I thought I saw regret in his eyes, as he looked at me, tears in my eyes, clutching my stomach. But whatever he felt in that second was gone. His eyes hardened again and he spat at me. "Pick this s**t up. I have guests coming over later, so I need this place clean, and you gone."

I froze. "Gone?" I whispered.

"I don't care where you go! Just don't be here!" He roared. With that he left, probably down to the pub, and slammed the front door shut. I finally started sobbing my heart out, wishing I could leave.

Wishing I could leave this hell.

But I couldn't. And no one would save me, because that's not how life works. You had to save yourself, but I couldn't because I wasn't strong enough. And I wasn't sure I'd ever be.