Status: Work In Progress
Broken
00
Mia Verga was the popular girl at school. Always had been, even as a freshman. With a waterfall of dark brown waves that ended at her waist, stunning blue eyes, and perfect ivory complexion, how could she not have been? Every guy wanted her, and every girl wanted to be her.
Then, two weeks before the start of her junior year, her mother died. Killed instantly in a hit and run by a drunk driver while she was on her way home, one late Saturday night. That was when everything fell apart. In those two short weeks before school, everything in Mia's world had flip-flopped. Her father lost it; became a drunk, out every night, all night, fired from his job, and started abusing Mia. Not just by hitting her, though he was quite good at it, but also by.. sexually abusing her. He would come up to her room in the middle of the night and whisper to her before he'd start. "You look so much like your mother," he would say. Once he'd actually called her Marissa, her mother's name.
After all that, Mia couldn't stand anything anymore, though she couldn't show it. She had to keep up that act of the golden girl, just like before her life was turned to chaos. He'd told her that if she ever told anyone about what he did, that he'd kill her. So, she went on, living her days like a zombie. She cut her hair off, up to her shoulders with spiky ends that stood out every-which-way. She lived her days on auto-pilot, not being able to show any real emotion on her face. All she could manage besides blank, was grief stricken.
The only time she felt even remotely better, was when she hurt herself. It was like with that cut in her wrist, along with the blood that seeped from underneath her skin, the sadness and anger and frustration just flowed out. It made her feel alive again. Then it would stop, and things would be bad again. But now, she'd learned to accept it. Accepted that she'd always be sad, and angry, and would never have anyone. No friends, no one to talk to. And that was just the way it would be. But that was okay. She didn't plan on sticking around much longer anyway. It would all be over soon.
Then, two weeks before the start of her junior year, her mother died. Killed instantly in a hit and run by a drunk driver while she was on her way home, one late Saturday night. That was when everything fell apart. In those two short weeks before school, everything in Mia's world had flip-flopped. Her father lost it; became a drunk, out every night, all night, fired from his job, and started abusing Mia. Not just by hitting her, though he was quite good at it, but also by.. sexually abusing her. He would come up to her room in the middle of the night and whisper to her before he'd start. "You look so much like your mother," he would say. Once he'd actually called her Marissa, her mother's name.
After all that, Mia couldn't stand anything anymore, though she couldn't show it. She had to keep up that act of the golden girl, just like before her life was turned to chaos. He'd told her that if she ever told anyone about what he did, that he'd kill her. So, she went on, living her days like a zombie. She cut her hair off, up to her shoulders with spiky ends that stood out every-which-way. She lived her days on auto-pilot, not being able to show any real emotion on her face. All she could manage besides blank, was grief stricken.
The only time she felt even remotely better, was when she hurt herself. It was like with that cut in her wrist, along with the blood that seeped from underneath her skin, the sadness and anger and frustration just flowed out. It made her feel alive again. Then it would stop, and things would be bad again. But now, she'd learned to accept it. Accepted that she'd always be sad, and angry, and would never have anyone. No friends, no one to talk to. And that was just the way it would be. But that was okay. She didn't plan on sticking around much longer anyway. It would all be over soon.
♠ ♠ ♠
Just a little insight to whats going on up to this point in Mia's life.Like? Dislike? Either way, I wanna know. So, please comment, and/or subscribe
-Dee