Saving Viola

I placed two pop tarts in the toaster, lit myself a cigarette and poured myself a shot of vodka. Inhaling deeply from my fag I looked around the dingy kitchen in my father's flat... or flats to be precise, he owned this whole block and used it as his own makeshift drug and sex lair, drug hazed little girls stumbled down the corridors, half naked and sometimes crying. Loud music blared from his "office" on the top floor.

I sighed, sex drugs and rock 'n' roll isn't all it's cracked up to be.

My poptarts burst from the toaster, burnt and smoking slightly just as my fathers latest "fling" walked into the kitchen and gave me a poisonous glare. I met her gaze cooly and calmly, munching nonchalantly on a poptart.
"What are you doing down here? I thought you had a 'appointment'" she said, her voice dripping with venom.
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," I countered, calm as ever, inside my heart was pounding against my ribs. She would tell him.
At this she gave me one last sneer and ran back up the stairs, presumably to my fathers office.
"Stay out of my room you little cunt!" I called to her, I was in enough trouble as it was, a little more wouldn't hurt... Much...

About 5 minutes later, just as I was halfway through my second poptart and about 3 breaths into my 3rd fag my father burst into the kitchen, he smelt of booze and weed, I wrinkled my nose.
"Wh-at arrre you doing dowwn heere?" he hissed, slurring his words.
"Eating." I replied, my voice was cold.
"Why?!" He seemed incredulous, nonplussed.
"I'm hungry." I stated
"YOU SHOULD BE UP THERE EARNING ME MONEY YOU LITTLE BITCH, NOT DOWN HERE GETTING FATTER!" His voice was loud and aggressive now, I trembled slightly.
"Did you take your... medicine?" He continued.
"If by that you mean the drugs you shoved in my food and drink then, no!" I snapped back at him.
He lurched at me then, grabbing hold of a hank of hair and smashing my head against the counter, I screamed and tried to get away, clawing and slapping, my blows did not affect his drug and alcohol induced stupor and he remained seemingly unharmed.
"You, take yourr fucking medicine like a good little whore!" He yelled, practically frothing at the mouth.
He shoved the pills down my throat, closing my nose and kicking me until I swallowed. Then he grabbed me and dragged me upstairs to the room I was supposed to be in.

I was already feeling bleary and everything fuzzed, I was pushed into the arms of some man, who looked at me greedily and began to undo my clothing.
I tried to struggle away from him,
"No!" I screamed, pushing him away, but my arms were limp and useless.
"I always did like a fighter," he said, his eyes were lit up at the prospect of the pleasure that awaited him.