No place like hell by H.N. S (reading women .TXT) 📕

I lay awake, listening out for any tiny sound made in preparation for the usual goodnight routine. The clock read 10:28pm, i could never sleep when i knew my father, Simon, wasn’t back and a sleep himself, even if i tried my mind wouldn’t let me, it would just play back all the other nights me and Simon spent together and it sending shivers down my spine.

I heard the front door slam shut, forcing me out from my nightmare day dream and into my nightmare reality and my eyes dart to the clock that said it was 10:30pm, just like him, being spot on. My hearing heightened as i listened closely to his movements downstairs, hoping that he would just shuffle up the steps and into his room to sleep off his drunken state. But I’m not that lucky, God has never looked down on me any other time I’ve been in the depths of hell so i don’t know why he would help me now.

I heard the floor boars start to creak and i froze, holding my breath so that no sound can escape. He finally reaches the top of what seemed like minutes or hours of ascending the stairs until i see the light vanish from under the door, i knew he was standing outside and a tear escapes my eye, burning my checks and i slam my eyes shut thinking i could make everything and everyone vanish and leave me alone. The door knob starts to turn and i quietly whisper a prayer under my breath as fear and panic pump through my veins and i could feel by heart pound against my ribcage, surprised that it didn’t break from the pounding.

Light started to fill the room from the hall way and although my eyes where shut i could sense him standing there. After a moment i heard his footsteps on my bedroom floor as he moved closer to my bed and my hands started to clench into a tight fist, cutting the skin on my palm and blood trickling onto the bed sheets. He loomed over me as he slowly leaned down and crushed me under his muscular body, thanks to his countless hours spent at the gym, if he wasn’t beating me he was beating a punch bag. I felt his hand slide up my legs and i couldn’t keep my breath in any more and began to whimper as more burning tears streamed down my cheeks. I don’t try to fight him anymore, fighting only make it worse and prolong the torture as he pounded into my innocence.

My eyes shot open when i realised the covers had been ripped from the bed and my pajama pants where being slung on the floor followed by my panties. He was grasping my shoulders tight as he positioned himself self between my legs.

“Please” i had whispered, unaware of my mouth being able to move without my command. “I don’t... please don’t” i begged and begged hoping that tonight he would act like a normal, caring father and tuck me in and kiss me goodnight then leave to sleep on his own. Before another word could escape he had tightly gripped my mouth, his nails deepening into my cheeks mixing the blood with my tears as my screams became muted moans.

With his other hand he resumed to slowly stroke up my inner thigh until he reached my now bare vagina. It wasn’t long until the silence was broken with a roar from Simon as he viciously thrust into me. I clenched my fist harder and forcing my nails deeper into my palms, but no pain could distract me from what happening between my legs.

I don’t remember what time i had passed out, but i was grateful that i didn’t have to witness the events of last night through till the end. I sat up to turn my alarm off and winced, it felt as though an elephant was sitting on my stomach. I lifted up my top and saw the reminders of last night, my slender waist covered in bruises making my stomach black, red and blue. Struggling through the pain i turned off the alarm that was telling me its 6:30am and i need to get a ready for another day at school.

I staggered out of bed, stumbling past my discarded covers, pants and underwear to the small bathroom next to my wardrobe. My hand froze as i reached for the door handle as an unfamiliar person looked back at me in the corner of my eye, it was my refection. My averages looks where drowned by the abuse of last night, cheeks red from the possible slapping that might of occurred once i passed out and a little scab on my defined jaw from Simon's deep grasp on my mouth. My voluptuous pink lips a little puffy from the vicious kissing, then my light emerald eyes, what i think my best feature usually pretty and far too big for my slender but curvy, 5ft5 body. They were swollen and red from the overflow of tears i had cried, both awake and unconscious. I shook my head to bring myself back to reality and focus on getting to school.

I got out the shower and started on covering up marks. Although the situation wasn’t ideal i was happy that Simon has learned to only harm me in placed that i can cover up, so my stomach, legs and virtue were the only places he can touch, even if i didn’t want him to touch any part of me at all! As I searched through my wardrobe i took out matching black underwear, short denim shorts with tights and black tank top. I brushed and curled my hair then focused on applying concealer to cover up the marks on my face and a little mascara. Unless i had to cover up the abuse i never really wore much make up, i had naturally clear and pretty face. Not like I’m vain, just the countless stairs and wolf whistles i would receive off fellow classmates confirmed this. I finished by putting on my leather jacket, making sure my bruised wrists were covered also.

As i make my way to last period English, thoughts of before my nightmare life popped into my head and how things used to be happy, well that was before the accident. 6 years ago when I was 11, it was a normal Saturday for the Wilson family. Me and my mum Linda were making our way to the supermarket for food supplies. I remember laughing so hard at my mum singing to the radio in a funny voice and shaking her head around. I awed how she looked and wished that i would grow up to have her big, deep emerald eyes, voluptuous lips that were lit up with a constant smile and sun kissed skin like hers. Although I’ve been told constantly by Simon that i look just like her, my smile could never be as joyful and genuine as hers. I only looked out the window for a moment to view the beautifully blossomed daisies planted alongside the road, thinking about plucking some for my mum because they are our favourite flower when a sudden screech from the tires made my head pop to my mother furiously trying to keep control of the steering wheel. The only time i’ve ever seen her without joy and happiness on her face, as it was replaced by fear and concentration. A split second before we crashed into the upcoming van I felt the pressure on my head, it was my mother’s body blanketing me, saving me from the danger of the collision.

The first bell rang, signalling students to make their way to class. I like to get to class early so that i don’t give people the chance to stair and analyse me. I feel as though their stairs could penetrate my protective layer of anger and cockiness and see the scars from 6 years of abuse by a man that should love and cherish me. I open the door to reveal an empty classroom, with the cliché English Shakespeare posters on the wall and dirty white board behind Mr Schofield’s organised desk. Mr Schofield was my favourite teacher, but that was mostly due to the fact that i loved English and he let us sit wherever we wanted.

I walked to the back of the room and sat in the corner and began to dig out my books for the lesson. Students began to fill the room shortly after, followed by our teacher and the bell to signal that class was starting. I had began to make notes when the volume of gossip and chatting increased, stopping the teacher from continuing the lesson and all eyes where are the door way. My eyes darted over to the sexy man entering the room, making me uncontrollably bite my lip to keep back the lust to jump at him. His long toned body almost filled to door way. He wore a tight plain black top, highlighting his sweet chiseled muscles that hid beneath and wore sexy faded jeans that were slightly slouched on his waste.

My eyes drifted up to his head and my lip pulsed with pain as i bit harder. His short, yet scuffed brown hair looked as though it had been styled just for him and stopped above his eyes. This made his deep blue eyes scream for attention and i felt as though i was getting lost in them.

My daydream was soon rudely interrupted when a few girls let out a tight high pitch scream, making him react by revealing his perfect white pearled teeth smile, making me want to swoon at the sight of it.

“Thank you for finally joining us Mr Edwards, please take a seat” Mr Schofield ordered

“just Jacks fine, Mr S” Jack replied, fully intending on acting like a stuck up snob as he answered back, only making Mr Schofield chuckle and continue to write on the board.

Jack was the captain of the football team, instantly making him the king of school, and the girl staring at him from across the class room his queen, Claire. She was the prettiest girl in all of the school; however that crown was mostly due to the mini outfits she wore, her bleach blond hair, light blue eyes and generous curves. Jack was known as a player and never committed to anyone, but Claire was determined to train him by permanently being attached to his arm. I instantly coughed and forced my head down, i knew that the only seat left available was next to me and i was now in for a bumpy semester.