Hit Me

She lifted her shirt off and stood in front of the mirror. she'd never stand to long but when she would look at herself she'd look at the bruises.....they'd always be given where no one would see them if she wore her normal jeans and t-shirt. sometimes they'd bleed a little but she did her best to hold back the tears. one was given on her stomach and the other on her chest above her breasts. it was never supposed to be like this.....never....the family was supposed to take care of her not shove her intentionally giving her bruises....making her bleed calling her things she wasn't. she couldn't look at herself anymore. Not without seeing herself like they do. Precious blue eyes changed to those of hurt. she wiped the tears away and started the water. she waited for it to get as cold as possible.

"I'm....." she'd always try to tell herself that she worth something but she stopped knowing it was useless. over the months she'd become quiet....learned not to say a word at all ever. Her words would uprise the 'family' and cause her more pain. she felt the cold water stimulate her bruises causing her to flinch but she'd hold her own and let her body become adjusted to it.

She felt that cold water would paralyze the pain and hot would cause more. she hated herself more than anyone ever could. she sat in the corner letting water flow on her tired body wanting rest and let the tees flow silently. She hated it....she hated herself and what she'd become....abuse is what they where doing but no one would believe her not DHS. they put her in this home that was supposed to take care of her but they abused her instead.

"Hurry the fuck up." Her heart panicked as she heard the angry voice that she feared the most boom on the other side of the door. she turned the water off and quickly dressed straining her bruises and made way to her bedroom closed the door and laid in bed.

She put the sheets over her head and hugged the stuff Animal tightly to keep calm hoping they'd gone to bed and wouldn't hurt her anymore tonight. it might have seemed childish for a teenager but it was all she could do besides cry silently.

Lyssa Mychelle Cook was her name she called a curse and every night she'd wish she'd die because there was nothing good and she would be hit again in the morning and/or afternoon. she gave up in god because she'd prayed everyday something would happen but nothing would and she'd put on a fake smile convincing everyone she was fine when she wasn't she'd be beaten every night and she was in so much pain but no one noticed or believed....