Broken by Rylaan Colon (the best books of all time TXT) 📕

up a laugh.

I look upstairs to make sure my door is closed.

I don’t need anyone saying anything about him.

I walk over to the sink and I get some water.

Without using a cup, I lower my head to the faucet.

The tips of my hair get soaked.

I head back upstairs, and to my room.

When I get there, he is putting on his black shirt.

I blush as I walk in.

He turns his head to look at me.

“Hey, how are you,” I ask.

“I have a slight headache, but other than that I’m fine.”

We talk for a few minutes before he leaves.

Laughing and having fun.

But in no time at all, he’s gone.

I lay back against my bed frame.

Resting my head down.

I hear as Mom and Max leave the house.

I sigh.

Grabbing my stuff and getting dressed, I leave for school.

Miserably dragging my head low as I park my car.

I walk toward the entrance.

Still keeping my head low, Stacey walks up to me.

She is talking.

Tracey and Ashley join us.

I side-eye Tracey and I roll my eyes at her.

Her expression changes.

Her head lowers.

He walks up to us.

Putting his arm around my waist.

The conversations sputter out.

“I can’t believe there are only three weeks of school left,” Ashley states, oblivious.

Stacey looks at me.

Tracey looks mad.
He smiles.

“See you in Geography,” he says.

Our group separates.

I wave Stacey goodbye.

As I walk down the halls, I spy Leila.

She is talking to Tracey.

When she sees me, she walks over.

“Hey, bestie,” She says.

“Sure, whatever.”

She seems confused.

“So you’re saying that the other day when you tripped me was nothing?” I retort.

She looks guilty.

But she says nothing.

“That’s what I thought,” I storm away to my first hour.

Math, included our math teacher trying to teach us, but most kids just fell asleep.

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When getting home, Micheal is in my room.

Sealing up my window.

“What are you doing,” as soon as the words slip out of my mouth, I regret them.

“You my cihld, mn. Wa yo tis, tik you ding?”

I look at him.

I walk toward my window.

He hasn’t done much, other than taking school glue to the seal.

He’s drunk.

“Do ye hed mena? Hu?”

“Get out of my room,” he looks stunned.

Seconds later I feel hands on me and a break behind me.

And then a gust of cold wind.

Then my head hits something.

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I wake up to there being many glass bottles around me.

My head feels foggy.

I ignore this fact, instead, I focus on how my hands are tied between my back.

And I can’t see much.

It’s very dark in here, where ever here is.

I can’t hear much and then my head starts pounding and it hurts so much.

“Hello!” I scream.

I hear messed up footsteps.

I see Micheal appear out of the darkness.

He slaps me.

My cheeks heat up.

“Sut up you bitoocha,” he is still drunk.

I couldn’t have been here long.

I feel blood slide down the side of my head.

“Where am I?”

“I sad shot up!!” he screams, smacking me a few more times.

Blood spools from my mouth.

He hits me and I’m out again.

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There is dry blood around me, telling me I’ve been out for a while.

Most of the bottles are gone.

Some of them look new though.

I see Micheal’s silhouette in the corner.

“You are an ungrateful little bitch,” He stays in the darkness, “Did you know that?”

I can tell he isn’t drunk anymore.

“I said, Do you know that?”

“Actually you said, “Did you know that?” ” I retort, still dizzy from the loss of blood.

He walks up to me.

Towering over me.

“Ok smartass, Did you know that?”

I laugh a little bit.

He grabs my hair, pulling my head up.

“ANSWER ME!” He screams.

“No, okay no I didn’t.”

He laughs, “You didn’t huh?”

He slightly walks away.

“Where am I?” I ask, “Why am I here?”

He stops.

“Shut up.”

Minutes later, he disappears.

I’m left alone.

A hear a slam far away.

Once more I doze off.

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When my eyes open, no one is around.

The cold hard chair makes my back hurt.

On the floor, I notice marks, roughly half a foot long each.

I can’t hear a thing, but the bottles are piling up.

My head is throbbing.

I look around the room.

The chair I’m in is old.

Both my hands and legs are tied.

My vision is blurred.

The walls look like they’re cracking.

I try to move the chair but instead I hit my head.

Knocking me out, again.

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The sound of liquid on the ground wakes me up.

I can see Micheal pouring alcohol on the ground, near my head.

“Gross!”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Great, you’re awake,” he said sarcastically.

“Why?”

He looks confused.
“Why am I here,” he stays seated.

“Curz.”

He lifts my chair up.

I roll my eyes again.

He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Can I have some water? I’m really thirsty.”

He looks at me and for a minute, doesn’t reply.

He then stands up and picks up a beer.

“Do you have any water?” I ask again.

“This is good enough,” he growls.

He forces me to drink it.

I almost choke as he does.

“Ok, ok I’m good.”

He then finishes it off.

Smacking me again for no reason.

I can taste the copper in my mouth.

“What was that for?” I ask.

He doesn’t respond.

Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

I’ve dozed in and out of consciousness several times.

Sometimes Micheal is there, sometimes he isn’t.

I feel like I’ve been here for a few days.

Every now and then I see light poking in.

This time, when I opened my eyes, Micheal is there.

He is standing above me.

“You know, you’re a stupid, useless daughter.”

I can’t even react.

He smiles.

My limbs are aching ad they feel as useless as he calls me.

Pouring alcohol on my head, I’m filled with rage.

I look up at him.

Reaching for his hand.

I bite into the flesh.

He jumps back, but I hold my grip.

“Let go of me you stupid girl,” he retorts.

But I don’t.

I pierce through the skin, leaving him bleeding before he hits me in the head.

I feel dizzy.

I can hear him cursing under his breath.

Somehow I feel safer now.

Then he turns so quickly.

Bringing his hand, at a rapid pace, against my face.

Once again...Out.

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I ram the chair against the wall, hoping to make some noise.

Instead, the ceiling releases some dust.

I groan I’ve been here for so long, and my most recent bath was with beer.

My hair is all knotted, and I’m a mess.

Externally and Internally.

I’m miserable.

He will go to jail for this, I think.

I only have a few more months until I’m 18 and now this happens, I still can’t even afford my perfect house.

I can feel myself crying.

All of what has happened and what is happening dawns on me.

I can’t stop the tears.

They roll down my face, like a waterfall.

Even when Micheal walks in, I can’t stop it.

His booming steps echo.

He looks at me.

And he chuckles.

I struggle to lunge at him and I fail.

He takes another sip from his beer.

Sitting in the corner, on the ground.

He leans into the wall.

Chugging three more beers in less than a minute.

I stare at him.

He stares at me too.

We hold each other’s gaze for a minute.

Then he breaks it.

“What do you want?” he asks.

I don’t respond, I don’t need too.

Instead, I steady my gaze at the pile of bottles.

And the piles of full bottles too.

I’m still slightly crying.

I lean my head back, slightly hitting my head against the wall.

I sigh.

Blowing some hair out of my face.

I haven’t been able to use my hands or my legs in so long and they ache more.

I haven’t eaten.

And all I’ve drunk is a sip of water(that fell from the ceiling) and some alcohol.

I’m so tired even though I’ve “slept” a lot lately.

So tired.

Tired.

Tir

Ti

T…

Chapter 13

Chapter 13:

I awake to no one around me.

I’m tired of sitting here.

I shift my body to the side.

I look over and I see a small shard of glass on the ground.

I make my way over to it, as well as I can.

Once inches away, I shift to my side.

Falling over I wiggle backward.

I reach the glass.

It’s rough edges slice my skin.

I wince at the pain.

But I continue by cutting the ropes that are keeping me here.

When they come free.

I struggle back a laugh.

With my free hand, I cut loose my feet.

I get to my feet and automatically fall.

It doesn’t make too much noise.

I make my way to my feet again and cling onto the walls.

I make my way down a slim corridor.

I feel like I have no understanding of how to use any part of myself.

I have no clue where I am.

I see a door at the end of the hallway.

I almost run to it, tripping only once.

Then I hear it.

“Hey!” he screams.

As soon as I’m out the door, I sprint.

As fast as I can.

I can’t recognize where I am.

But I still run.

I don't look back.

I can’t.

No way.

I’ve come so far, and if I do, I'll break down right here.

In the middle of the street.

I run to the street until I look back.

I don’t see him so I run to a nearby house.

Knocking on their door.

When they open the door they seem to recognize me and they usher me into their home.

It’s a sweet couple.

The man looks at me but only the woman speaks.

“Honey, are you okay?”

Their faces don’t look confused, they look scared.

“How do you know me?” I ask.

“Honey, you’re all over the news. You’ve been missing for two weeks.” I can see the concern in her eyes.

“You were presumed dead.”

I shudder, my jaw drops.

That long? I wonder.

The man hands me a blanket and moves me to the couch.

I curl up on their couch.

“Honey, can you tell us what happened?” She moves closer to her husband.

“Um, I um. He, he, kidnapped me.” I say.

I look around, scared that he’ll find me.

“Who?” the man asks.

I move my gaze over to him.

“I-I, Micheal.”
The man looks confused.

I hear a knock on the door.

“He’s here,” I whisper.

“That must be the pizza man, Sorry we weren’t expecting the company,” the woman says as she looks at me.

“No, it’s him,” I say.

“Honey, who is Micheal?” the man asks again.

“My-my d, dad.” I manage to get out.

He looks over at his wife.

“He followed me, that could be him!” I exclaim.

The wife looks out the window.

“Just pizza.”

I feel relieved.

I shiver at the thought of him finding me ever again.

“Let me call your parents,” the lovely woman says.

“No!” I scream.

I lower my voice, “Please no.”

When I look back at the couple, the wife is paying for the pizza and the man is dialing…

9...1...1…

He tells them about me and my “story.”

The receiver on the other side says “We’ll be there as soon as possible.”

The man hangs up and turns to me.

“Have you eaten lately?” he asks.

“I haven’t eaten since the day I went missing,” at this the woman turns to me, “and all I was allowed to drink was his alcohol and a sip of water.”

“My dear, I must get some food and water into your