The Girl With The Broken Heart

Chapter 1

One year later.

“Sarah,” I startle, hearing my name being called by Chloe as she knocks on my bedroom door. “Sarah, are you up? You’re going to be late.”

“Ugh yes! I am up.” Rolling my eyes, contemplating skipping school. I had already snoozed my alarm 3 times.

“Ok, well hurry, I’ll wait for you downstairs.” Chloe creeks my bedroom door open, poking her head around the door. “You’re not dressed. We have to leave in 10 minutes.”

“I know. I’m just so tired. I couldn’t sleep last night.” Stretching as I stand from my very comfy bed. Chloe stares down at the floor. “John’s not in the best mood, so I’d hurry.” I tense what has he done while I messed around avoiding getting out of bed.

“Ok, I will be ready in 5 minutes. Promise.” Trying to reassure her. Knowing Chloe, she wants to get out of the house. “I’ll grab breakfast on the way to school. Have you eaten?” She shakes her head, worry in her eyes. “Ok, give me five minutes.” Chloe closes the door, hearing her footsteps on the stairs.

I quickly throw on my school uniform, which consists of a grey pleated skirt, white open collar shirt and black blazer with the Lawsons High School badge. Quickly make my bed and grab my bag. I check my sandy brown hair in the mirror. Not too bad to say I’ve had French braids in for two days. “Ok, that will do.” I reassure myself. I run into the bathroom to brush my teeth, then head downstairs.

“I’m ready.” now breathless from rushing around. In the living room, Chloe is pacing back and forth in front of the brown leather sofa. “Let’s go.”

John enters the living room as we head to the front door. He glares at me. “No breakfast today, Sarah?” with a stern voice.

“No, no time this morning.” John’s jaw twitches. He’s standing at the back of the long room, in the doorway which enters the kitchen.

“Well, that’s a shame. I was hoping we could have a little chat.” Code word for, he was hoping to hurt me somehow. “Never mind, I’ll see you after school. Do not be late,” with a smirk on his face that says he’s looking forward to it. Dred fills in the bottom of my stomach.

Not showing my emotions, I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Instead, simply nod once and turn to the door, exiting as quickly as possible. Hearing John chuckle to himself as I close the door behind me. “That man is evil.” I whisper to Chloe.

The walk to school takes 40 minutes. John has banned us from taking the bus. Mum gives us money secretly, so it doesn’t come out of our pocket money, but we only use it if it rains. I don’t want to get her in trouble. He would go crazy if he knew. Both Chloe and I get £20 a month pocket money for personal spending. Mum also puts money on our dinner account for school lunches.

Chloe looks relieved to be out of the house. I turn to her and ask, “what happened this morning?” Her eyes go wide and she presses her lips together in a line. She’s quiet for a minute. I don’t like to push her, but I need to know.

“I came down this morning. John was sitting at the kitchen table eating his breakfast,” she says in a soft quiet voice. “I started to make my breakfast. He hit the counter with his fist. It made me jump, and he laughed.” Anger fills in my chest. This man is horrible and a bully.

“I finished making my breakfast, so I sat at the table and started eating. After a spoonful, he grabbed my bowl and threw it on the floor, then yelled at me saying he hadn’t finished eating yet, and I don’t deserve to eat with him.” Tears fill in Chloe’s eyes, she continues, “He stormed out of the room and shouted at me, I better clean up.”

Calming my frustration by taking a deep breath. I do my best to prevent her from being alone with him. John never physically assaults Chloe, but he tries to frighten her. He leaves all the physical abuse to me. The first time John hit me, I was 11 years old.

I remember it so clearly. We had just got home from a party. My mum had a few drinks, and Chloe and I were full of energy from all the sugar and sweets. Dancing and laughing in the living room, remembering how fun the party was. Mum wanted us to get ready for bed. Instead of listening, we carried on dancing and laughing. John bellowed for us both to listen to mum and grabbed me by my hair, pulling me towards the stairs. I remember the pain ripping through my scalp, screaming as he pulled me up the stairs, struggling under his tight grip. I remember hearing my mum and sister shouting at him to let me go. Once we got to my room, he pushed me onto the bed, hitting me with so much force and yelling I should obey my mother, and how I have no respect. I remember screaming for him to stop and all the pain I felt for days after.

I shake the memory from my head and turn to Chloe. “Promise me you will not go downstairs on your own in the morning. Go down with me.” Chloe looks at me with concern on her face. “I promise, but we shouldn’t have to live like this,” she says, just above a whisper.

I stop walking and grab hold of Chloe, pulling her in for a tight hug. “I know Chloe and as soon as I’m eighteen, I will make sure we don’t have to.”

We arrive at the nearby corner store, four streets away, and pick up breakfast. I have a bacon barm with ketchup while Chloe has a flakey all butter croissant. While walking to school, I try to push aside the fear caused by John’s words. I can see the wicked smile on his face as he warned me not to be late. What is his motive? I hope one day someone will come and save us.