Blood, Knuckles and Pavement

My name is Abigail or if you are close to me Abby. I'm 17, blonde and thin. I have thick black rimmed glasses and bangs. I constantly wear cardigans and jeans. The only problem with the Abby thing is, no one is close to me. I have to many secrets to be close to anyone. In fact if it wasn't for my will I wouldn't be living. My mother died when I was born, I don't think my father has ever gotten over her death, he has beaten me from as long as I can remember. There wasn't a day that has gone by that I haven't felt like it was my fault, it is my fault she died. I got brains, a big house, a nice car, and a lot of money, I would give all of it up just to give my mother life again. I don't want my father to hurt anymore. I don't want to hurt anymore. So, this is my story. This is the story of how I became.... Knuckles.

"ABIGAIL!" I hear my father yell. He's angry. Very angry. I hurry downstairs, the faster I arrive the less it hurts. I stand in the foyer at the bottom of the stairs, he is in the doorway entrance. The hooks on the wall of the small entry way not occupied by anything yet. I stood only a few feet away from him.

"Yes father?" I ask him nervously. His jaw was set, he is at least a foot taller than me, he was still in his business suit. I'll try not to get blood on his shoes, that will make him even madder. His brown hair is half messy, it looks like he has run his fingers through his hair.

"Have you begun dinner? I won't even ask if it is finished because I know you aren't competent enough to have done the math and calculated when you should have started it." He scowled. The timer on the stove went off, telling me that dinner was ready and I just had to dish it up.

"It is ready, I made stuffing stuffed chicken breasts with gravy, mashed potatoes and corn. What would you like to drink for dinner tonight father?" I asked, trying to appease his anger.

"You do have a fucking brain. I want a beer." He said, taking off his suit jacket and shoes. The timer went off again, just as I turned I felt his fist connect with my back, I collided with the wall, staying there because I knew better than to move before he was done talking. "Why the fuck is the timer going off again? Maybe you should have rushed to take care of that, you know I don't like the sound of the beeping. Get your ass in there and turn it off, dish up my food and I want it done in three minutes. Beer and all or it's going to be worse than just one punch tonight" He warned. I dismounted from the wall and rushed to the stove. I quickly grabbed out the food and served it up onto a plate, I rushed it out to the large white dining room. The only thing in the room is a large wood kitchen table and chairs, a few decorations and a fake fern in the corner. I set his food down in front of him. He raised his eyebrows.

"Do you not approve?" I asked him politely.

"My beer. You. forgot. my. beer." He replied, his face getting red. My heart plummeted. I just have to remember to be quiet, no sound.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered. He hasn't gotten up yet.

"Well, why are you still standing here? Go get me my beer bitch!" He yelled. I jumped to it, I ran to the kitchen and grabbed his favorite beer, I jogged back to the dining room. He wasn't sitting anymore, I didn't know where he was. This was bad. There are three entrances to and from the dining room, the one I just came from which is the kitchen, One from the hallway and one from the foyer. He is either going to come from the hallway or the foyer. I didn't even notice him. A sharp pain in my back tells me that he came from the hallway.

"No stupid mistake goes unpunished." He told me, punching me in the back again. Do not make a sound, I tell myself. He grabs my right wrist and twists me around, punching me in the stomach. He favors my midsection and my back because those are easily hid. A few more punches to the stomach and I know I have a bruised rib. I'm on the ground, he is straddled over me. He pins my arms up above my head with one hand, using his other to slap and punch me. Finally when he has decided that I have learned my lesson he gets off of me. I know I have to find the strength to get up and drag myself to my room, but not let him know I am in pain, that will result in another beating. I slowly got up, he resumed his place at the table. He took a bite while I was on my way to the stair case.

"This has gotten cold. I'm not hungry anyways" I hear right before a sick, slimy sound of food being smashed against my back makes me stop mid stride. Great, I have to clean that up. He chuckles, guzzles his beer and slams it against the table. He strides up, almost knocking me over to get past.

"Sorry" I mutter.

"Clean this up. I expect you to be ready for school early tomorrow. We have to make an appearance for breakfast." He tells me, briskly walking up the stairs. At least I know there is no more beatings tonight. I head towards the kitchen for cleaning supplies. After gathering the appropriate supplies I clean up the mess from dinner. I start to ascend the stairs, I just have to make it to my bed, I hope I at least sleep an hour tonight. I make it to my bed and ease onto the soft padding. Drifting off to sleep.