Broken, Battered, and Badly Bruised

I regret that I am to tell you this story, I beg of you, don't read this. Find a story with a happy ending, or one that HAS an ending at least. I beg of you. This story might make you angry, make you cry, or change the way you see life. I might make you regret something, or want to do something.

If you refuse to listen to me and still want to read this, then I guess I can't do anything to stop you.

"Stop please!" Faith begged. Jackson, her foster dad, just laughed.
"Bitch you deserve it! So shut up and take it!" Jackson said and he pounded into her one more time, then he pulled out. Faith slid to the floor, bleeding again.
"Jackson baby! I need some release!" Martha called from the other bedroom.
"I'll be back for you later," Jackson said, with malice, as he left. He locked the door.
Faith cried herself asleep in the corner, again

This story is of a young girl. She lost everything as a child. Her family was killed in front of her when she was only three. She still remembers it in her nightmares. She was then abducted by the killers. They tortured her until she was almost dead. Then they told her that they were sorry and that it would never happen again. But it did. Over and over again.

She soon thought that being hurt was a way of showing that someone loved you. But that you never hurt back. You also had to cover your wounds.

She was sent to a public preschool. She was teased because she never dealt with problems in the right ways. She was misunderstood. At one of the school plays she was a tree and the costume showed part of her arms and her teacher saw her bruises and asked her how she got them. She told her that her parents loved her very much, and she smiled. She was taken out of that preschool soon after.

She was sent to a private Elementary school. No one asked questions there. Many other kids were also injured. The school was called Wayward Academy for the Underage Delinquents. Any one could see how these children were disciplined. The teachers were all violent. They were all beaten there. They also were taught how to act in public the “right” way. She soon learned that not all pain was love, some was hate.

A year ago she recognized that her “family” didn't care about her. She called social services. She is now in foster care. She was given a name: Faith Hope Brightside. She was in a good home but it ended all too soon, she was moved to the next family, that is where she is now.

Faith is now in Middle school, a public one, she is nearly silent and has no friends there. She doesn't see anyone like her. No one hurt daily, no one who is afraid. The students bare their arms, and she sees no wounds. I will now get back to the present.

The door unlocked with a loud clean click. Faith woke up and looked at the door frightfully.
“Be the maid, please be the maid,” Faith begged under her breath.
“You're never getting that lucky,” Jackson said as he entered the room. He lifted her up off the floor and threw her against the cement wall, “You didn't please me this morning, You know what you get because of it,”
“No,” Faith whimpered, “please no,”
“Get up bitch and get ready, you have three tonight,” He told her, “and make me money,” Jackson left the room.
Silent tears were running down Faith's face while she got ready for her 'clients'.

The first was a business man. In his forties.
“Get out of the dress, on the bed now!” the man said gruffly. Faith obeyed. The man was violent, griping her tighter, bruising her already weak body. He clawed her thighs and drew her blood.
“Stop please!” Faith screamed while the man drunk her blood, “Stop I'm begging you!”
“Fine whinny girl,” he said while he moved up her body, He was positioned above her, he pounded into her. He came inside of her, he trusted ten more times in her. He pulled out. Bit her inner thigh, hard.
“Just leaving my mark,” He said as he walked out.

Faith prepared her self for the second client. It turned out to be a father and his young teenage son. The father she knew, she's had him before. The teenager was very timid, and scared. Faith tried being strong.
“Isn't she a beauty, eh Mark?” the father said.
“I don't want to be here,” Mark mumbled.
“You're here so shut up. Your first anyways,” The father said while he went to an adjacent room.
“Listen, I'm not going to do anything, so you don't have to be scared of me.” Mark said while sitting down on the bed. Faith just stood in the middle of the room, his words did nothing to comfort her. She just looked at him with fake strength.
“I'm not going to hurt you, what do I have to say to make you trust me?” He said in a worried voice. Faith's strength was wavering, she wasn't used to worried voices. “What's wrong?”
Three loud knocks came from the room Mark's father was in. He came in.
“Out!” he barked, “You're a dumb child!” Mark left the room looking back briefly at Faith.
The father grabbed her arm and threw her on the floor. He kicked her in the stomach, and her head.
“Stop,” Faith said weakly, “help,” She saw Mark come in before she blacked out.