Status: Ongoing, weekly
Are you happy now?
Chapter Three
Four years later, Sam stood naked in front of her full length mirror inspecting the damage.
“This has gone way too far now, Sam. Can’t deal with this anymore.” She tilted her head to the side and poked her neck, wincing at the pain. A huge purple bruise had developed where he’d hit her and as she heard the echo of his shouts in her head, tears welled up in her eyes.
“Help me, someone, please.” She whispered, sinking to her knees against the white carpet of her royal blue coloured room. “Please.”
“Samantha!” her mother shouted abruptly from downstairs. “Breakfast!”
“O…okay.” Sam managed, pulling herself to her feet and wiping her eyes, taking in big mouthfuls of air. If she kept her long brunette hair down, no one would see the bruise; the small ones on her arms would be easy enough to hide. After getting changed into a simple white buttoned blouse and jeans, she made her way downstairs.
She entered the small kitchen, taking in the familiar brown floor tiles and marble tops. There was a bowl, milk and the cereal laid out for her already- probably by her mum. If she came from behind the door, she knew she’d come face to face with her dad.
“Morning, sweetie.” Sam’s mum came up behind her, giving her shoulder a small squeeze as she went by. Sam didn’t reply but instead sauntered over to the bowl and prepared her breakfast. She saw from the corner of her eye her dad sat reading the newspaper, belly straining against the dark blue material of his T-shirt and hanging over the belt of his jogging bottoms.
Sam ate her breakfast as quickly and silently as she could even though she knew her dad was aware she was in the room. He cleared his throat and Sam froze.
“I’ve put your clothes in the washer, Samantha, I expect you to iron them later on when they’re finished in the dryer.” Her mother didn’t notice the filthy look Sam threw her. But then, Mrs Jennings never notices any emotions of her daughter.
Sam heard the rustling of the newspaper, the clearing of the throat and braced herself.
“Morning, Samantha.” Her father seemed to almost spit. Sam turned to face the fat man who she was forced to call her father. “Will you be home on time tonight?”
“Four fifteen.” Sam confirmed with a short nod and turned to leave.
“Samantha!” Ryan Jennings snapped. Sam span round, her heart
hammering furiously against her chest. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t cry. “Come kiss your father goodbye.”
Sam held her breath as she walked to her father, leaning in to kiss the top of his head. But he grabbed her forearm and yanked her closer. She almost screamed. Instead, short sharp whimpers unwillingly escaped from her lips up to the point where her father’s smacked into hers.
“You say goodbye to your father properly, Sam.” He spat, releasing her and pushing her away at the same time. “You should be thankful you’re still allowed to stay here despite the fact you’re stinking out the house with your filth.”
She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t cry.
“Goodbye.” Was all she could say as she turned and almost ran out of the room.
“This has gone way too far now, Sam. Can’t deal with this anymore.” She tilted her head to the side and poked her neck, wincing at the pain. A huge purple bruise had developed where he’d hit her and as she heard the echo of his shouts in her head, tears welled up in her eyes.
“Help me, someone, please.” She whispered, sinking to her knees against the white carpet of her royal blue coloured room. “Please.”
“Samantha!” her mother shouted abruptly from downstairs. “Breakfast!”
“O…okay.” Sam managed, pulling herself to her feet and wiping her eyes, taking in big mouthfuls of air. If she kept her long brunette hair down, no one would see the bruise; the small ones on her arms would be easy enough to hide. After getting changed into a simple white buttoned blouse and jeans, she made her way downstairs.
She entered the small kitchen, taking in the familiar brown floor tiles and marble tops. There was a bowl, milk and the cereal laid out for her already- probably by her mum. If she came from behind the door, she knew she’d come face to face with her dad.
“Morning, sweetie.” Sam’s mum came up behind her, giving her shoulder a small squeeze as she went by. Sam didn’t reply but instead sauntered over to the bowl and prepared her breakfast. She saw from the corner of her eye her dad sat reading the newspaper, belly straining against the dark blue material of his T-shirt and hanging over the belt of his jogging bottoms.
Sam ate her breakfast as quickly and silently as she could even though she knew her dad was aware she was in the room. He cleared his throat and Sam froze.
“I’ve put your clothes in the washer, Samantha, I expect you to iron them later on when they’re finished in the dryer.” Her mother didn’t notice the filthy look Sam threw her. But then, Mrs Jennings never notices any emotions of her daughter.
Sam heard the rustling of the newspaper, the clearing of the throat and braced herself.
“Morning, Samantha.” Her father seemed to almost spit. Sam turned to face the fat man who she was forced to call her father. “Will you be home on time tonight?”
“Four fifteen.” Sam confirmed with a short nod and turned to leave.
“Samantha!” Ryan Jennings snapped. Sam span round, her heart
hammering furiously against her chest. She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t cry. “Come kiss your father goodbye.”
Sam held her breath as she walked to her father, leaning in to kiss the top of his head. But he grabbed her forearm and yanked her closer. She almost screamed. Instead, short sharp whimpers unwillingly escaped from her lips up to the point where her father’s smacked into hers.
“You say goodbye to your father properly, Sam.” He spat, releasing her and pushing her away at the same time. “You should be thankful you’re still allowed to stay here despite the fact you’re stinking out the house with your filth.”
She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t cry.
“Goodbye.” Was all she could say as she turned and almost ran out of the room.