Notice Me?

"What…did…I...Ever…do?” I gasped between sobs, that were escaping my trembling lips. I curled up in a tight ball, on the ground. My side, face, and mostly my whole body ached from what just had happened. I knew that big bruises were starting to form on my arms and legs.
My step-dad had hit me because he got drunk, again, and used me as a punching bag. And you might be thinking what a douche bag? Or maybe where is her mother and how can she let this be happening to her daughter? Where was she?
Well she was downstairs ignoring what was happening, up here. It’s not that she is scared of him but it’s that she didn't give a freak about what happens to me. Both my parents are divorced, so I’m always going back and forth from their places. They don’t live far, and still have little contact with each other. You wonder how? Well the reason is simple…they lived in the same town ever since we moved there, 9 years ago.
Sometimes (every-time) it feels like I'm stuck in a nightmare that I’ll never wake from. And do you think anyone is there to wake me from my own personal hell? NO! This is my life. Where there’s no way out, because if others try and help me- like Sahra- both of us will end up hurt in the end.
Sahra Hill is my best friend in the whole world and she’s also the only one that knows what happens under this roof. She was never supposed to know, it was an accident. It all happened in sixth grade; we got partnered up on a science project together. We wanted to get started fast so we agreed to come to my house. The thing was I didn't know that Paul (my step-dad) was going to come home so soon. Everything was going great, we were talking and laughing, we where even sharing stuff about ourselves, and for once I felt happy. But it all ended when Paul got home, he was drunk and very pissed (To this day I still don’t know why). He walked right up to me and punched me on my right cheek, I fell to the ground and he started to yell at me about how I was not allowed to have friends and bring people over to the house. Since Sahra was there and she was the brave and a bit tomboyish and prep type, she tried to stick up for me. I tried to stop her but it was too late, Paul got angrier and started to swing at her. He got a couple of strikes on her, but not ones that were noticeable or leave any bad damage, before I got her out of the house. That day Paul hit me so hard I couldn't move and made it clear never to bring people over or to even have anymore friends.
Whenever my parents hit me I cover the bruises with make-up or skip school so I would recover (which there's really no point in that because I always end up getting hit again before I even recover) and not be found out what happens at my home. That week I went back to school, after the recovery and hiding the bruises, Sahra surprisingly stayed as my only friend, but I made her promise never to tell a living soul about what happens behind these closed doors.
I trust Sahra with my life and secret, but the secret that she knows puts her and her life in danger. I love her so much, as a friend, that it sometimes hurts me when I see the sadness in her eyes when she knows what happens. I only allow myself to like people or dream to be friends with then, but other than that I cannot let them into my burning hell a of life. I don't want to bring other people into my problems. But two more years and I will be free from this hell hole. I think.
The pain in my chest hurts so much. I felt like I was suffocating and couldn't do anything about it, which just brought more tears to my eyes. Why don't my parents care about me? Why do they hate me so much, that they have to hurt me to be satisfied? I stared at the wall trying to answers those questions, with tears still coming out, for a couple more minutes before getting up form where I was and walking over to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and locked it, in case they would come back up here. I opened the cab net beside my big mirror and got out my razor. I put it up to my wrist and dragged it down, making a small, clear cut. I felt the pain that went thought my body, and oh... did it make the other pain feel much better. I slid down the wall and stare off into space, as I made a couple more cuts. I felt the tears as they slid down my face, why me?
I stared at the floor; still trying to answer the questions that were racing thought my head, before getting up and putting the razor away. I striped and put on the hot water on. I got in and just stood under the burning hot water as it started to make my skin a bit red. I washed and scrubbed the necessary parts and got out. I wrapped a black and pink towel with a big heart and a bunny inside of the heart around my small form. As I past the mirror I dint bother to look at the damage Paul made this time. I unlocked the door and walked straight to my walk-in closet. I got out a pair of black and red undergarments, which was the right side of the closet. I then grabbed a t-shirt that had a sad bunny and 'Life Sucks' in red under it, and gray short-shorts. I walked out, while drying my hair, and walked over to my queen size bed and got under the red blankets. I scooted to the farthest part of the bed, because it was the farthest from the door, and curled up in to a tight ball. I felt a bit safer, but not safe enough to relax and let down my guard. I can never let down my guard here.
I rested my head on my yellow fluffy pillow and thought of the past and how it will affect my future. I closed my eyes and was pulled into a dream-less-dream. But not before whispering...
"Why.....me?"