Once Love, Now Destruction

Abuse

I woke up to my alarm clock beeping. I quickly shut it off mot wanting my foster dad to wake up. I prayed that I wouldn’t have to face him this morning, but it was probably impossible for me not to.

I quietly went to my closet and picked out a black long sleeved sweater to hide the bruises, and loose blue jeans. I took a shower in the bathroom, and was not surprised to see bruises scattered across my pale skin. There was one that covered my whole abdomen, masking it in purple, black, and blue.

I remembered my foster dad had kicked, stomped, and punched me in my stomach until I had thrown up blood. He also left scars from cutting me with his pocket knife. He would sometimes break my bones, and I could never do anything to stop him, I never wanted to stop him.

He abused me to make himself feel better, to cope with his loss. My foster mom, his wife had died a few years after they adopted me from that wrenched orphanage. She was a police officer, and was shot trying to stop a man from robbing the nearby bank. When she died, the bad things started happening.

My foster dad lost his job, leaving us with nothing but the money my foster mom had given us in her will. The money didn’t last long. I would have to work countless hours to pay for the bills and rent for our small apartment.

Then it was the verbal abuse. He would say that everything was my fault; that I was a spoiled bitch; that I was a freak of nature; that they should have left me in the forest where I belonged. It got worse and worse, but I didn’t talk back nor did I stand up to him. It was true.

Then the physical abuse came. He would through beer bottles at me. Hit me, slap me, cut me, kicked me… break me. He did every torture imaginable.

I didn’t want to think about what would be coming when he got tired of using me as his living punching bag. He would kill me. He has already been making threats, cutting deeper into me with his knife, pulling out his gun and aiming it at me, but he hasn’t shot me yet.

I was living in hell, but I guess I deserve it. Maybe he was right, I should have just stayed in the forest, lost and confused.

I sighed as I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. I combed my hair and silently got dressed for school.

I winced as I pulled the black sweater over my head, my abdomen was aching and it felt like one of my ribs was broken. But I chose to ignore it like the other times, hospital bills were expensive, and I was use to pain.

I picked up my black book bag and walked out of my room when I heard, “Elizabeth!” from the tiny living room.

I took in a sharp breath and held onto my bruised abdomen in agony. I felt something clutch my neck painfully cutting off my air supply.

I looked into the face of my foster dad. His dark brown hair was tangled, and he looked like he hasn’t shaved in days.

“Where’s my money?” He slurred holding a beer bottle in his free hand.

I struggled, trying to at least give my answer before he started hitting me.

“Answer me girl!” he shouted digging his nails into the skin of my neck.

“Back… pack,” I managed to choke out.

He threw me on the floor and unzipped my book bag. He finally found the money, and when I started to get up, I felt him put one foot on my back, and something collided with the back of my head.

I heard the sound of glass shattering and it felt like someone was plunging daggers painfully into my head. I could smell the strong sent of beer wash over me, and saw black spots scatter across the room. I felt something wet trickled down the back of head and down my neck.

I held in a cry of pain as my foster dad kicked me aside like I was nothing. And it was true, I was nothing.

“Bitch,” was all that he muttered before walking off into the kitchen.

I felt tears sting my eye as I tried to get up, and that made my vision even worse that it already was.

My vision was damaged a long time ago, before I lost my memory. I was around seven or eight years old when I woke up. I was in this cave that had water dripping down from the ceiling and had bugs everywhere, but I never minded that, they kept me company. I was cold and alone, I didn’t know who I was, where I came from, or how old I was. I was wearing this black dress that severely singed beyond repair, I had burns on every inch of my body, was practically blind, and I was clutching onto a little plant in a tiny pot.

I was found in the cave crying a few days later by some hikers. They took me to the nearby town and they printed off flyers to see if anyone recognized me. No one did. I stayed with them for a few weeks, and they lost hope, so they sent me to the orphanage in the town. They renamed me Elizabeth Scarlett Ford, and they gave me a new age, which was ten at the time and treated my injures and my eyes got better, I guess.

The adults were nice, and the kids were too, but they didn’t understand me. They would pull my hair, steal my things, and call me an alien. But they meant well, it was better for them to have fun, then for them to be bored. I didn’t know anything about my past, no matter how much I tried to remember. I would always be at the top of my class, and my teachers would sometimes ask me to take a test or a quiz again and accuse me of cheating and when I took it again I got every answer correct.

That was why I like to talk to plants and animals, they didn’t judge me, and they listened. They were alive and I believed they had feelings, like we do, even if they couldn’t talk. That was why I loved working in a flower shop; I was around the things I loved.

I slowly got up from the hardwood floor that was now soaked in blood, and leaned against the wall for support as I walked toward the exit. My head was spinning when I reached the door, and I open it walking out the door, pulling my coat over my head so that my face was masked and I wouldn’t draw attention to myself.

I took the elevator, and thankfully I was the only one on it. I walked down the sidewalk trying to focus on anything but my head being split open.

I went to the lake that was near the school, and it felt like I was being watched. I looked around trying to see if anybody was looking at me, before I pulled my jacket’s hood off, and looked at my refection in the water.

I saw very odd green eyes gaze back, with dark lashes framing them. I had very pale skin which would be flawless, except for the bruises and scars from my burns and cuts, but I didn’t care about that. I had ugly dark brown hair that was straight until it came down to my neck, and then it would flow down in ringlets. I was very thin, not the pretty thin, but the unhealthy thin. I couldn’t afford much food, and it didn’t help that my stepdad took all my money, but I guess that was selfish of me. I saw blood all over my face and neck, and clumps of dried blood were stuck in my hair.

I sighed tiredly as I rinsed my face off with the water and gently worked on my hair trying to get the blood out; I made sure there was no blood was visible when I finished.

When I was done I walked to the school and heard the tardy bell ring, sending a massive headache shoot through my brain. I ran to class, not wanting to upset my teacher.

“You’re late Mrs. Ford,” my English teacher, Mr. Dobbs, scolded me.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I apologized.

“Don’t let it happen again. You may take your seat,” he stated, before starting his lecture.

I sat near the front; it was easier that way – for my eyes.

When I sat down I felt pain erupt from my abdomen, but tried to ignore it. I winced as someone kicked my chair, and I heard, “Freak.”

I knew that voice, it was Luis Herron. I’ve known him since elementary school. He was nice to everyone, everyone but me. But I didn’t mind, if it made him feel better, then my pain didn’t matter, I didn’t matter.

I stared my notebook sadly, wondering why who ever had me before I had lost my memory, didn’t claim me when the flyers were everywhere.

But I knew the answer, they didn’t want me. Nobody did.

Who would want a girl who didn’t know her own name, could speak seven languages, and who talked to plants? No one would ever want me, much less like me.

I sighed depressed, and listened to Mr. Dobbs lesson, which I knew already, but I didn’t want to be rude and not listen. Everyone had a purpose and life, and they deserved to be listened to, everyone, but me.

He was explaining Shakespeare’s life, what it would be like to be born in the fifteen-hundreds. He explained how death was everywhere, and it was easy to get away with murder. He explained after four years of being married, Shakespeare left his wife and his three children – Susanna, Hamnet, and Judith; and how Hamnet died at age eleven, but knew one knew how he died. And how Shakespeare died of unknown causes in 1616.

Death was a terrible thing, but it happened everywhere, and there were so many ways to die. There was old age, sickness or plagues, fires, accidents, murder, smoking, overdose, and suicide. All of them, tragic.

I heard the shrill of the bell signaling for next period. I winced as I stood from my chair. I felt myself be pushed into the desk, and tears were collecting in my eyes. I looked to see Luis smirking and he left the room.

“Are you alright, Mrs. Ford?” Mr. Dobbs asked.

I put on a blank face, not wanting to show pain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just ran into the counter this morning,” I lied.

“Alright, you better get to class,” he told me.

I nodded and flashed him a quick smile before I rushed out of the classroom, and entered my fourth period. I sat at my seat, and the lesson passed by slowly, and it was finally lunch.

I went through the line only getting a small bottle of water, food was expensive, and I didn’t have much money, and the money I did have I gave to the people who needed it most, I didn’t need it as much as some people did.

I would donate whatever money I had left over at the end of the week, to people in need, I would also donate clothes, so I didn’t have very many, I would talk to people in shelters. I wanted everyone to be happy, to live a good life.

I chose and empty table at the end of the cafeteria, and opened my little bottle of water. I had that feeling again, the feeling of someone watching me.

I looked up, trying to see who was looking at me. I saw a boy and a girl, both had blonde hair and forest green eyes. I haven’t seen them around here before, they must be new.

I looked down at my water bottle, took the lid off and spun it around the table tiredly. The unknown boy and girl still starred at me, but I didn’t mind.

The rest of the school day was slow, but when it was eight period, I saw the girl that was staring at me earlier sitting in the seat next to mine.

I bit my lip nervously, but I didn’t know why I should be nervous.

I sat down at my desk, trying not to wince as my ribs exploded in agony.

“Hi, my name’s Nicole,” the girl smiled hugely, like we were old friends, and held out her hand.

“I’m Elizabeth,” I introduced myself as I shook her hand.

Her hand felt like ice, and her skin matched the snow that would occasionally fall in the winter. But I blew it off; she probably had a cold or something.

“So, how long have you lived here?” she asked me.

“Since I was ten, I think,” I answered, “What about you, I haven’t seen you here before.”

“I just moved here with my brother,” she smiled and the teacher started her lesson.

***

The school day ended, and I walked out the doors of the school, but Luis and some of his friends blocked me.

“Can I help you?” I asked quietly.

“How pathetic,” Luis sneered and pushed me onto the asphalt, “Why don’t you just go drop dead, Elizabeth?”

I bit my lip trying to hold the scream of agony that was building up. My head hit the hard black ground with a sickening crack, and my ribs exploded in pain.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” I heard a voice shout.

I looked up to see Nicole and I think her brother came up to us. Nicole sat on her knees, and tried to help me up.

“Why would you help a freak like her?” one of Luis’s friends asked.

Neither Nicole nor did her brother respond.

“Chris, she’s bleeding,” Nicole told her brother.

My vision started to blur and it felt like someone was trying to choke me.

Then I could only see darkness.
♠ ♠ ♠
I love this story I hope you do too! Song for this chapter is Missing by Evanescence