What They Don't See

"I told you too pick up this shit!" My father yelled slurring a bit as he swung the door open. "Why can't you? It's your mess you pig!" I shot out the sudden confidence erupted something inside of him. He grabbed at my wrist, but I pulled it back. He groaned and pulled on my arm tigher. His grip tightening around my skin, most likely leaving a large bruise there. He yanked me out of the living room, out the door and threw me against the brick wall which was connected to the wood fence. "I'm a pig?! I gave you a fucking home for ten years, what did you slut of a mom do? She left you here, with me!" He yelled his voice getting deeper as he spoke.

"P-please!? I-I'm sorry, I d-didn't mean it!" I mumbled curling against the old brick wall and wooden splintery fence. Faded paint chips whipped on the ground, being pushed around by the breeze. "You didn't mean it? You didn't fucking mean it!" He yelled in my face, a splatter of spit landing on my forehead and cheeks. He grumbled something inaudible and turned to look behind him. Thick fog setting in on the streets; only one lonely streetlight post stood across the street flickered. My father took a heavy breath and whipped back to look at me, "you are just like your mother! "'I didn't mean it' 'I'm sorry' so damn pathetic! I wish your mother didn't keep you." He muttered sending his right hand towards my face.

My neck twisted to the side from the blow, tears instantly prickling my eyes and falling onto my cheeks. "You have one night to get out of my house, better yet make that an hour. I don't want to see you ever again." He said looking me in the eyes. I nodded "y-yes sir!" He backed off and headed towards the pub a mere few blocks away.

You'll be fine Riley, this is your chance. He order you too go. I mumbled to myself, weakly pushing off the ground and stumbling to the door. I took a big breath and held it while I walked inside. The smell of whiskey and smoke still in the air. I tripped past the couch and up the stairs into my room. Slamming the door shut with a bang I pulled out my small backpack; filling it up with the small amount of clothes and items I had.

I tip-toed into my fathers office and unlocked his safe, taking a few stacks of cash from his collection and shoved them into the bag. Quietly I shut the safe, escaping towards the bathroom for the last needed items.
. I dropped the bag by the door and pulled off the sweatshirt showing my arms and neck. Old bruises yellowed my skin, newer ones sat across my wrists and on my neck. Week old cuts made my skin paler and some made little bumps as if they were road bumps on a street.

I slid my finger across the bumps once, before I pulled the rusted metal medicine cabinet door open, peeking inside. My hand ran through the familiar shelves finding my meds and hidden box. I pulled them both out. Setting the yellowish bottle onto the sink and wrapped my fingers across lid of the box. I pulled out one of my thin blades. Only two, I was only going too do two I slid the razor across my skin once, watching the blood seep through the freshly made wound. A few beads of crimson red fell into the sink, while others dripped down my arm. I let out a sigh of relief and cut another line across my wrist another breathy sigh escaped my lips. I placed the blade back into the plastic box that held my life together. I wrapped a few layers of toilet paper around the fresh cuts and then a tight layer of ace-bandages. I clipped the bandage together and pulled my sweatshirt on again, covering my bruises from the past up. Except one, I looked into the mirror and studied the bright red hand mark that spread across my cheek.

Not one ounce of make-up could cover up the mark. I pulled the hood up of my sweatshirt and the shadows covered my eyes and most of my cheek. "Better" I whispered to myself, while turning around and heading to my bag. The yellow bottle in one hand and the box in my other. I knelt down and opened up the front pouch, I slid in the two items. Zipped up the bag and tugged it over my shoulder. By the time I was done, it was ten at night and I was wearing my old muddy Black Veil Brides sweatshirt and dark skinny jeans

I stood up and walked out the bathroom door back into my room and climbed out threw the window. I gripped onto the tree branch; shimming down till my foot touched the ground. My legs felt numb as they took their first step towards freedom... but where is freedom?

Notes

So first chapter of first story :/ hope ya'll liked it. Uh, leave a comment, subscribe and rate it you want me to continue.... so yeah. Bye ya slut muffins! ~N xx