Today's had been having a lamp thrown at her head. Sara ducked in time for it to miss, crashing into the kitchen wall behind her. With pale skin dotted on bruises and the occasional scar, sun blonde hair cut into a messy bob compounded in a small thin frame, the girls stood firm regardless of what came her way.
Of course, all this did was make her dad angrier. Growling like a bear, he stantered over towards her and socked her in the face. Underneath the pained expression painted on her face, she smiled. His punches had no meaning at this point. Sara was already numb to them. His wedding ring had managed to cut her cheek, the sting of open air actually being benefitial since it kept her from ignoring all of this.
For so long, she'd just let the beatings happen. Like a child plaything her so called father threw her around and hit her till she submitted to defeat, a crying heap on the floor.
"Useless!" He'd shout, the sound reverberating off the walls and into her own head.
"Your grades were shit! I didn't raise you to be a dumbass!"
Sara's grades were only so bad because she couldn't force herself to care any longer. For the last six months she waited till he'd finally put her out of her misery. She figures school wouldn't matter if she was dead. But instead he just hit her. Again and again and again.
After so long she couldn't take it anymore. Her mom would have told her to fight back, she knew this. So she started to devise a plan.
She'd play it safe, for now. Work on her grades and make it seem like he had control over her just like he wanted.
A month in and things were working. Her grades started to climb from the depth, a false smile painted on Sara's face every time father would praise her.
"There you go kiddo, you guys needed a little motivation." Father had said at dinner that night.
"I'm proud of you."
Sara tried not to show her distain for his insincerity, replying, "Thanks dad."
After she got her grades up, she'd run away. After school she'd go to the edge of town and make it look like something horrible had happened. Enough that no one would look for her. It was a dumb plan, sure, but Sara knew it was the only choice she had if she was to truely be free.
Despite doing better in school like he wanted, he still hit her. Not as hard, but enough that it became clear he did it more out of some sick enjoyment than punishment for her behavior. It just made her hate him even more.
At those times, Sara thought of her mother often. Wondering if she would be proud of Sara's plan. Maybe not. But Mom wasn't here anymore to judge. Of course, she didn't anticipate people noticing her act after the first three months. After being called to the principles office, she realized it was the first sign of trouble.
The principal, a stocky older gentlemen, sat down across from her along with the schools guidence counselar. The office itself felt like it was closing in on her, sufficating her with every passing second.
"Sara, your teacher notified us that you seem to not be focusing in class. Your not ingaging with other students and multiple others have said that you arms are all bruised up. Is someone bullying you?"
"No." Sara replied stiffly, "I'm just really clumsy. I used to use makeup to cover the bruises but I just got tired of using it."
She looked down at her feet, milking her false embarrasment to the fullest.
"Are you sure?"
Sara smiled the best she could, wide and toothy just to drive it home.
"Of course. There's nothing to worry about."
Letting her go, she knew that plan had to be inacted today. If it wasn't they'd know she was lying and question her again.
Instead of taking the normal route home after school, she went to the edge of town, where the sea of trees met the city. She dumped her bag onto the road, casualty scattering notebooks and sheets of homework all over the place, soon marrying the items with dirt, mud and anything else she could find. She shed her jacket and took off her sweater in favor of the short sleeve shirt underneath. She didn't care if anyone saw the bruises with her scars or how pale she was, with the fact that the sun seemed like a foreign object. What mattered was that they saw the real Sara, for everything she was.
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