Amy sat alone in the house. She sat on her couch in the front room. Nothing to eat, or even occupy herself in the meantime. She just sat and waited. She waited for him to get home again, so she could finally go to her room. Once he was done for the moment she could leave, but for now she had to wait, or else it would be a worse beating.
She was losing her will to live, being trapped here. She would just think, and imagine all these voices yelling at her, screaming that she should give up, to give in. She had tried before, and couldn't go through with it, She was too weak. There was still something holding her back. Or rather someone.
Another voice rang in her head. Reverberating, growing, it was Nick. His voice was the opposite, soft, and gentle, understanding, and hopeful. He was a new, nice boy in school who wanted to be her friend, but she pushed him away because she was afraid. Now however she regretted her decision.
In her eyes he was beautiful. He was perfect, an angel in this damp, and darkened world. A true source of Light, and happiness it emanated from him, she wanted so much to believe in him. Maybe he could fix things, set things right for her. If she only let him in.
She was ripped away from her thoughts by her father kicking in the door. His mud ridden boots staining the carpet, the half empty bottle in his hand, spilling all over the ground. He would be angry about that. He reeked of alcohol, as he always did. Amy just cowered, and pulled herself into a tight ball. Her father slammed the door shut, and gazed at his daughter, cowering in fear.
Her father sauntered over to her, a shit eating grin on his face, before it turned sour quickly. He sat the bottle down on the counter beside the couch. He cracked his knuckles, and punched her in the ribs, causing her to cry out in pain, she got out of her protective form, and he punched her again.
He hit her all over, and when she fell on the ground He kicked her. She got up and tried to escape, as soon as she got her footing, he kicked her into the coffee table, she knocked against it, The sharp edge jutting painfully into her ribs, he smiled at her cries of pure agony.
He grabbed her by the throat and pulled her back up slamming her into the couch. He started to undo his belt, as he prepared for the worst of it. He only did this on special occasions. Only when he felt in the mood. And she would lie there and take it, or it would get worse.
She wanted so badly to give in that time, She was beaten within an inch of her life that night, she wanted to die. She would have if it wasn't for that single voice of hope ringing out in her mind. May be If she let him in he could help her, save her from this hell, this perdition. If only he knew. It took all her strength just to live that night.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
