BPOV

Let's see.. I finished my English essay, I completed my math homework, now I just have to finish my…

My thoughts were interrupted by someone slamming the front door. It was just after 6 pm and I knew that he would be home sooner or later. I could tell by the sound of the door that he wasn't in a good mood.

Oh great this will be fun, I thought to myself.

Three years ago, my mother remarried. This time, the guy she decided to ruin our lives with was a very vile man. He was an abusive, foul, sorry excuse for a human being. I couldn't stand to look at him, let alone be in the same house.

I, however, had no choice in the matter, but I really wish I did. My mother knew what he was like and was relieved that he took his anger out on me instead of her.

Nice, right?

At first, it was hard to deal with. It hurt like hell any time he'd hit me or kick me, but I eventually started to get used to the pain.

I could hear his footsteps get closer so I laid down in bed and pretended to be asleep, not like it would help much, but I can always hope right? He tried to open the door, but when he realized it was locked, he started shouting obscenities at me to open the door, but I just pretended like I couldn't hear him.

I was very tired of his games. It sounded like he was walking away, but by the sounds of his footsteps, he turned around and I could tell he was about to kick the door open. There was a loud crack but I was too afraid to look. He was now in the room and yelling at me.

I tried to will myself to become invisible, but apparently, it was of no use.

He tore my blanket off and he laughed when he saw a look of horror on my face. He grabbed me by my arm and threw me across the room. Before my whole body landed, I heard my leg snap and knew this time was going to really hurt me.

I closed my eyes and fell back into the corner as far as I could and hoped that by some miracle, I wouldn't die. I always knew that he would be the death of me, but I didn't want to die yet. I was still young and I deserved to live some kind of life. This which I was living now was not by any means a life, and if I had the choice, I would leave this hell without ever looking back.

Hope rushed through my body as he left the room. I knew there had to be something up, but I wanted to believe that he finally decided to stop all this torture. I gazed around the room I have come to know as my personal sanctuary. Well, not anymore of course, but for a long time, it was where I could escape the nightmare of day to day life, and just travel to another place with the help of my favorite books and personal writing. My hopes of this all stopping were promptly shattered as he returned to the room holding a knife in his hands.

The most wicked grin was plastered on his face and I can only imagine what was going through his head. I knew it would either consist of death or unbearable pain.

"You are such a sick sight to see, you pathetic excuse for a girl. You can't even defend yourself or your life. You have no one." He smirked as though he stated the most obvious fact ever.

I don't know why it still pulled at my heart when he said that. Of course it was true, but I've known it for so many years that I should be able to hear it without the all too familiar pain in my heart, but of course he wouldn't just stop there.

He had to tear at my heart as much as he could. "That's right NO ONE loves you or cares about you and NO ONE will care when you're dead!"

Again, I knew he was right. I couldn't even defend myself. And yet again he was right, I had nobody, I was alone. Knowing that, I welcomed death. It was better than this hell I've dealt with for the past too many years. Tears stained my cheeks as I realized that this would be my last few moments. My life was in the hands of this monster and there was nothing I could do about it. I was alone but I wasn't weak and I would not die as a weak person.

"Do what you want to me but know this, I am NOT weak and you will NEVER be anything more than a murderer." My voice was oddly calm and as the last word came out of my mouth, I saw him raise the knife in his right hand and I felt as it sliced through my upper arm.

I felt blood ooze from the wound and I knew this was it; I was really going to die. I did not want to give him the satisfaction of the pain I felt, so I held my tongue. I cringed at each strike of the knife, but I refused to give him the pleasure of my screams.

As the blood pooled my body onto the white carpet that surrounded me, everything was getting darker. I tried to fight the darkness but it was winning with each passing second. Right before death claimed me, I heard sirens in the distance and I couldn't help but to hope that someone would save me before I lost my life.

A few minutes later, I heard someone talking to me but I couldn't register what they were saying.

Then, there was nothing.


Author's Note:
This is my first story on this site so I hope you all enjoy it. It has a personal touch for me, so I am trying my hardest to fulfill my wishes for this story. I would appreciate any and all help I could receive with it, so please feel freeeeee to review with your thoughts. I have a broad picture in my mind of where I will be heading with this story, but if you have any ideas of things you would like to see please share them with me. Thank you.