My savior

Chapter 1

TW: MENTIONED ABUSE AND CUTTING.

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I've lost count of how many cuts I've made in my arms. Today was the worst day of all the days I have been in my so-called house. Let me start from the beginning.

My name is Eva Brown, and I am 16 years old. I had a normal family when I was young; caring parents and a lovely brother. Sadly, when I was 9 years old, my brother died in a car accident. My parents changed after my brother's death. They weren't caring and kind; they were abusive, alcoholics, and high.

I don't remember my mom ever drinking or abusing drugs until my brother passed away. It was until later that I realized that it wasn't that she hated me but her fear of my father couldn't surpass the love she felt for me. Although to me it appeared that she was complacent with my father. In her own way, he abused her too.

I realized as I got older that they hated themselves more than me. My father blamed my mom for my brother's death because she had been talking to them about Christmas and her father took his eyes on the road for a moment to look at her. That was when a drunk driver came out of nowhere and sideswiped the car. They ended up on a snow drift on the side of the road.

In his own way, he blamed both me and my mom for my brother's death. her for distracting him. me for being alive and reminding him of the child he lost. I realized years later that the person my father hated the most was himself because he was driving drunk the night his precious boy was killed.

They would drink alcohol, get high, and start calling me names like "BITCH."

"You disgusting kid"

"Your brother was greater than you."

"I WISH I NEVER HAD A Daughter Like You."

I didn't understand at first why they were so mean to me. I was just a 9-year-old kid who lost her big brother. I didn't do anything wrong in my life. I would always obey them and be kind to them.

At the age of 12, they started hitting me. If I didn't bring them anything they wanted, they would torture me. They either hit me in the stomach with a belt, or they would lock me in my room and rob me of food.

As I grew older, I understood that they hated me, preferred my brother over me, had me only because of my brother, and worst of all, they never wanted me.

Since I turned 16, my father has brought his friends over and forced me to entertain them. My mother would dress me like a slut and I would have to dance for them. They brought me a pole in the living room so, when the guests came, I would dance for them.

Today, however, was something new. This morning, when I came downstairs from my room, I saw my parents arguing. In all my 16 years, I never saw them fight, not even once. My father was shouting, and my mother was crying. I didn't know what was happening until she looked at me.

She looked at me and for the first time in years I saw the mother that I knew before my brother left us. but there was something else in her eyes, fear. At first my thought was she feared me, I suddenly realized that it was my father that she was afraid of. My father turned and saw me watching them.

"Eva, come here!"

I went to them cautiously with my head down.

"Yes, father."

"Today, you will be entertaining your guests differently. You will be their toy in bed. You will not make a sound unless they say so, and you are forbidden to cry or shout when they are having fun with you. Is that clear? "

"But fath-" SLAP

"I SAID, IS THAT CLEAR?"

I put my hand on my cheeks, swallowing the tears.

"Y-yes fa-father"

"Now, go to your room and don't show your face till I call for you. Since you talked back to me, no breakfast or lunch today. You'll only have dinner with the guests, is that understood? "

I nodded my head. He lifts my chin up.

"Words"

"Yes, father."

He let go of me and I quickly went to my room and locked it. I went to my bed and let the tears slide down my face. I don't know when I slept because all I heard when I woke up was someone banging on the door. I tried to remove any tear stains on my face and went to open the door.

I was faced with a very angry father.

"Why weren't you opening the door? Why did it take you so long to open the door? Why didn't you come down when I called you downstairs? ANSWER ME! "

"I-I, I am sorry, father. I was sleeping. Please forgive me. "

I went down on my knees. He, however, grabbed me by my hair and made me stand up.

"You're lucky that the guests are here, or I would've punched you till you couldn't breath. Now, go wear something to entertain them with and cover any bruises you have with makeup. Come downstairs immediately after finishing. Is that clear? "

"Yes, father."

He let me go and went downstairs.