A girl gets beat by her father
I felt so neglected. My father actually hit me for the first time, and for the first time, my sister wouldn't stand up for me when something happened. He hit me so hard that I fell to the ground. I always viewed my father as my hero, my role model, because I wanted to do everything he did. He'd always been the person that everyone liked, the person no one hated.
As I walked down the road, I thought, so what? It's only one time, it won't ever happen again. That's what I thought. Except, it did happen again. It happened again a number of times. Not just once that he'd hit me, but lots of times, until it became a habit of his. Ever since he started getting into fights, he'd beat me. He never beat my sister. He only took out his frustration on me, because I guess I looked more like my mother than my sister, Ida. Ida has always been the favorite because he hates my mother, and we're just alike so he hates me.
The night that he smashed a beer bottle over my head, I left the house. I was a little bit dizzy but I could still walk and I figured I had to get as far away from that place as possible. I ran, or rather stumbled across the lawn and into the little tool shed down by the stream at the end of our property. I looked up at the house and saw someone standing at the window. I didn't care. I opened the shed door and stumbled inside. I grabbed my bicycle and started peddling down the road. I fell over a couple of times but I didn't care. I had to survive. I peddled and peddled until I could barely see straight. I didn't know if it was the beer bottle talking to me or the major biking I was doing, but I fell again, and this time, I fell hard. I hit my head on the concrete and winced.
I couldn't move because my whole body was pretty much paralized so I just laid there, what choice did I have? I heard a car door slam shut but I didn't bother to look up and see who it was. For a second I thought that maybe it was my dad coming to take one final swing at me to finish my miserable life, put me out of my misery. It wasn't him. I felt relief and sorrow at the same time, like I half wanted it to be him and half didn't want it to be him. It wasn't him, though. "Are you alright, dear?" I hear a female voice ask in a concerned voice that I havn't heard in so long. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and said "Hey, lets get you to a hospital."